


Chosen One

by Mira



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-18
Updated: 2009-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-15 13:35:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/161303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mira/pseuds/Mira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I've been thinking about that. I talked to Daniel Jackson not long after he returned. Descended. Whatever. He didn't remember much, still doesn't, but he did say that time had lost all significance. That it was all time. Oddly, for a social scientist, he made sense. Time as a stream flowing one way is an illusion; we perceive it that way due to our limited senses. But really, everything is happening all at once."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chosen One

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Temaris](http://temaris.livejournal.com) for her excellent suggestions; to [General Jinjur](http://general_jinjur.livejournal.com) for more ideas and encouragement; and to [Hyvarken](http://hyvarken.insanejournal.com) for catching some problems.

**Chosen One**

Looking back, Rodney thought it started when John found the boy in his bathroom. He'd been the first one to arrive when John had called for assistance. He'd barreled into John's rooms and found him crouched over a young boy, one hand around the boy's wrist. "What the hell?" Rodney had murmured, and then stood back, pulling John with him, as the med team poured in.

John had turned to him, bewildered, and Rodney's heart had clenched at the pain on John's face. He and John retreated into the corridor where others were gathering, murmuring to each other. Lorne trotted up. "Sir?"

"I don't know," John said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Swung by to shower and change after my workout and found him just lying there."

Rodney could hear everyone else asking _who_ and _how_ , but he refrained. If John knew, he'd tell, but from the expression on his face, he was as puzzled as the rest of them.

The med team popped up a gurney and maneuvered the little boy onto it. One slid a needle into the back of his small hand, making Rodney shudder, and attached an IV. They began to walk backward, bringing the gurney and its young passenger with them.

"Wait," John said when they were also in the corridor, the crowd stepping back. He bent over the gurney, studying the boy, then gently rested his hand on the boy's forehead. The boy's eyes fluttered open and he shifted, hunching in on himself. "He's cold," John said.

"Let's get him to the infirmary," Chester Bharadwaj said, and they glided toward the nearest transporter. John followed, and then Lorne. Rodney stayed behind, shooing most onlookers back to work but calling for Radek and Miko. When they'd arrived, eyes wide behind their glasses, he knew they'd already heard. "We need to check for any kinds of exotic particles, any anomalies at all."

"You think he's from a parallel universe?" Radek asked as they followed Rodney into John's quarters. "Hmm, research in a bathroom; that is new."

"Where was the boy?" Miko asked.

Rodney knelt and gestured. "About here, lying on the floor, his head that way." The three of them stared at the floor as if it would reveal something more than the Ancient pattern of tile. Then Rodney activated his tablet while Miko pulled out instruments from the satchel she was carrying: ratemeters, dosimeters, even a spectrometer that Radek had invented. Rodney sat on John's bed and watched while searching through the security records from the prior night. Nothing, of course; exactly as he'd expected. He sighed.

"Go," Radek said to him at last. "This will take hours. Colonel Sheppard needs a friend now."

He stared at Radek, and at Miko who nodded solemnly. Rising, he said, "Thanks," feeling inadequate. Radek often made him feel inadequate. He hurried to the infirmary.

Where nothing had really happened. Woolsey was there, listening to Dr. Bharadwaj. "We'll run a DNA test," Chester said. "But the most likely explanation is that he's from off-world."

"Most likely in the sense of it would be completely impossible?" Rodney asked.

"I'll check the security feed," Lorne said, slipping away. Rodney wished he could get back to work, but he didn't want to leave John alone. Teyla and Kanaan had taken Torren to spend a few days with the Athosians, and Ronon had gone with them. They were due back tomorrow, but Rodney wanted them here right now.

Where the hell had the kid come from? There were gate teams coming and going, but no off-worlders had visited them today, or even yesterday, and who would leave a little boy alone in Atlantis, anyway?

Woolsey stood next to Rodney, who imagined he felt waves of discomfort rolling off him as they watched John watch the little boy. "Pegasus," Woolsey murmured to Rodney. He nodded ruefully.

He heard a soft cry, and then John stepped to the side of the hospital bed. "Hey," Rodney heard him say.

"Where's my mom?" a small voice said. Rodney looked at Woolsey, and everyone in the infirmary stepped toward John and the boy. "I want my mom."

"I know, I know. We're trying to find her," John said in a soft voice. Rodney hadn't expected him to be good with the kid. "In the meantime, I'm John. What's your name?"

"John."

"No kiddin'," John said, and he almost sounded pleased. "Cool. What's your last name?"

"Sheppard."

After a few seconds, John said, "Okay." He turned to look over his shoulder at Rodney.

"Hey, John," Rodney said, coming up to them.

John said, "This is my friend, Rodney. Rodney, this is John Sheppard."

Little John Sheppard stuck out his hand and gravely shook Rodney's. "Hi," he said. Rodney studied him closely. He didn't bear the slightest resemblance to his John. Not the ears, not the nose, not even the eye or hair color.

Rodney said weakly, "Hi. Um, this is our boss, Mister Woolsey."

"Hello, John," Woolsey said and shook John's hand. "We're trying to locate your family. Can you help us find them? I'm sure they're worried about you."

"My dad is Patrick William Sheppard," John said in his clear voice. "My mom is Clarice Lovell Sheppard. We were visiting my Aunt Felicity at, um. The Homestead. It's in Virginia. I live in Virginia but my aunt lives in France."

Rodney thought John -- Atlantis John, not the kid -- was paler than usual, and watched as he took a step back, bumping into Woolsey. Without thinking, Rodney put his hand on John's shoulder, and their eyes met. John looked as freaked as Rodney had ever seen him, as freaked as when the Iratus bug had been embedded in his neck.

Woolsey slid past John to stand next to their intruder. "John, I'd like to hear more about your family, in the hope that will help us find them. But I see Doctor Bharadwaj wants to talk to you, too."

Chester herded John and Rodney away from the bed. "I have a few questions myself," he said looking straight into John's eyes even though he was speaking to Woolsey and the boy.

"Uh, we'll just," Rodney said, and pushed John into the corridor. "Okay, what just happened? I already know your dad's name is Patrick, so I'm guessing the rest is you, too?"

"He's not me, McKay," John snapped, but his shoulders dropped and he leaned his head back. Rodney heard it pop. "Jesus, what the hell is going on?"

"I take it your mom is Clarice? And that your aunt lived in France?"

"And we visited my aunt at The Homestead when I was about that age."

"That's creepy."

"No shit." John sighed.

"Listen, I hate to ask this, but is there any way that kid is yours?"

John looked injured, and then pissed, but at last he said, "I don't see how. And even if he were, which I don't think he is, how'd he get here?"

Rodney tapped his radio. "Lorne? Find anything?"

"Not so far," Lorne's voice said in his ear.

Rodney shook his head at John. "There's only one stargate," he said into his mic. "But there are miles of places where a boat could land."

"I know, McKay," Lorne said. "On it."

"Thanks." He managed to refrain from telling Lorne to keep him posted; Lorne would. He shrugged at John.

"Shit," John said. "Sometimes I hate the Pegasus galaxy."

Chester stuck his head out of the entry to the infirmary. "Colonel? Could I see you? Privately?" he added when Rodney began to follow John. Rodney scowled at him, sighed, and flopped back against the corridor wall. Put the puzzle together, he told himself. He thought about returning to John's quarters to see if Radek or Miko had found anything, but he knew they would have radioed him if they had.

John strolled out of the infirmary, holding one hand over the inside of his elbow. "Blood test," he explained when he saw Rodney looking at him. "You'd think they'd have enough by now." He hesitated, then added, "Also a buccal swab."

Rodney also hesitated. That meant they were testing DNA. "That takes a few weeks, doesn't it?" he finally asked.

John shrugged. "Chester said conventional Earth testing would, but they're also using Ancient and Asgard technology. Should be a preliminary answer in a day or so."

Wow. Rodney clapped his hands abruptly. "I'm starved. I was on my way to breakfast when all this started; wanna head to the mess hall?"

"I could eat. And, uh, we could bring something back for the boy. For John."

"Yeah. Bet there aren't any pancakes left. Too late now. Although why the cooks call them pancakes I don't know. Maybe they're made in a pan? But there has to be something he'd like. What did you like as a kid?"

"He isn't me."

"I didn't say he was," Rodney snapped back. "I asked what do you think he'd like to eat?"

John took a deep breath and rubbed his chin. "A sandwich? One of those apple-things from Pelador?"

"And some pudding," Rodney added. "Sounds great. Exactly what I want." They entered the mess hall; it was late enough in the day that only a few people were there. The staff had left out stacks of saran-wrapped sandwiches Rodney started to paw through. "Here's turkey," he said, passing it to John. "Hey, Black Forest ham and cheese."

"You know it isn't really Black Forest ham," John said.

"It doesn't even taste like Black Forest ham," Rodney agreed. "Do you know how they make it? It's actually kind of disgusting if you think about it too much."

"Then don't," John advised, taking a second turkey sandwich, two apple-things, and a half dozen pudding cups.

"Hey, leave some butterscotch," Rodney objected, though pro forma. John handed him two cups. He studied John's profile; he looked tired to Rodney, not that Rodney prided himself on his observation of humans. He heard John sigh again, and thought about the little boy in the infirmary, the one who had apparently teleported into John's bathroom. He would never admit it, but he thought the odds were that it was John's child. Sent from the future? From another planet? John had admitted to only three encounters during his time in Pegasus, not that he owed Rodney any explanation, or that they talked about such things often. But when Rodney and Katie had broken up, John had shared beer with him on the pier, and shared other things, too.

They sat at one of the tables on the balcony overlooking one of the smaller piers. From there, Rodney could hear the waves sloshing against Atlantis. The air was fresh but not too cool; summer was returning to this hemisphere. Last summer had been chaotic, but maybe this year the team could find a few days to spend together. Another thing Rodney would never admit was how much he enjoyed being an uncle to Torren, and watching his teammates plus Kanaan be silly for the boy. "Remember PX9-276?" he asked abruptly through a mouthful of sandwich. "That beach? The lanais or whatever they were called?"

John pursed his mouth in a way that Rodney knew meant he liked the memory. "Yeah. Looked like great surfing. Why? You said the solar radiation was dangerous."

"This might surprise you, but I'm occasionally guilty of hyperbole."

"No!"

"Occasionally. But I keep thinking about it. Imagining Torren there, and you. Teaching Ronon how to surf, maybe. Just -- just _being_ for a while." Rodney felt like an idiot. What a stupid idea.

"McKay, I didn't know you had it in you." John grinned at him. "Are you seriously suggesting a vacation? Some time away from the labs, from browbeating your department heads?" He pretended to take Rodney's fever, resting the back of his hand against Rodney's forehead.

Rodney sighed dramatically and suffered the teasing, happy to see John's grin. "Even geniuses need time off," he said haughtily. "So. What do you think?"

"I think it's a genius of an idea. Let's talk to the others, see what they think."

"Oh, you already know. I didn't think we'd get Ronon off that world, and Teyla was talking about it over dinner a couple nights ago. That's what made me think of it."

John wadded up the plastic wrapping and stood. "Careful, McKay. You could turn into a real boy."

Rodney was taken aback when they reached the infirmary and found Radek sitting with the boy. He narrowed his eyes, and then realized that Radek was surreptitiously taking measurements on a ratemeter. "It is nice here," he heard Radek say. "Lots of ocean. You will have the colonel show you when he can."

"The colonel?"

"Ah, yes, the other John? Thin, with the hair?" Radek gestured over his head, and the boy laughed.

Rodney glanced at John, whose expression had returned to his usual poker-face. Loudly, he said, "Radek, what are you doing?"

"Ah, here is Rodney. I was telling you about him, you remember?" Radek said, and the boy laughed again.

"Hey, John," John said, his voice suddenly soft. "You feeling any better?"

"Yessir," he said. "Did you find my parents?"

"Ah, no, not yet."

"But we brought you a sandwich," Rodney said, pushing a rolling tray to the side of his bed. "Turkey, do you like turkey? The colonel can get something else if you want."

"No, sir, turkey is fine. I like turkey." He struggled to sit up. Radek adjusted the pillows behind him, and John set down the apple-thing and the pudding cups.

Chester Bharadwaj appeared behind Radek. "Gentlemen," he said, including the boy in his greeting. "Good, I was going to ask one of the nurses to bring John something. Do you want some ginger ale with that?"

John nodded, mouth full of turkey sandwich.

"Colonel, Doctor Mckay, would you help me find some ginger ale?"

Rodney made a face at Radek but followed John into Chester's office. He was a big man so there wasn't much room with three of them crammed in with the desk and two chairs, but John convinced the door to slide shut. "I'd like some ginger ale," Rodney said, but Chester ignored him.

"Who's going to tell this child that his parents are dead?" Chester asked.

"What do you mean?" Rodney asked. "We don't know if his parents are dead; why would we tell him that?"

"Because he claims his parents are Patrick and Clarice Sheppard, and from Colonel Sheppard's medical record, I know they've both passed."

"Whoa, whoa," John said, raising his hands. " _My_ parents are dead. But this kid could be from another universe; we've seen that often enough."

"It's too early," Rodney said. "We don't know where he's from. For all we know, it is an alternate universe and his parents are looking for him."

"Then tell him that. Tell him something." Chester crossed his arms and loomed, something Rodney thought he excelled at, much more than Carson or Jennifer ever had been able to.

John pushed Rodney out of the office. For a minute, Rodney thought he was going to stalk out of the infirmary, but he slowed, and returned to John's bed. "Hey, Radek," he heard John say. "Mind if I talk to John a while?"

"No, no, I should go. I will come by later, if you like, with a chess set."

"Yessir. Thank you."

Radek left, giving Rodney a narrow look. But what was Rodney supposed to do? He followed Radek into the corridor. "Nothing?"

"Rodney, you know I would call you the minute we found anything. There was no residual radiation of any kind, in the bathroom or on the boy. Evan has examined the security tapes, Miko has studied the gate records, and there is still nothing. No indication how he got here."

"Shit."

"Yes, I agree."

They walked silently back to the main lab. Rodney did have work to do, and he felt a strong aversion to being there when John or Chester told the boy that they couldn't get him home. "Shit," he said again.

They separated, each to his workstation. It took Rodney a few minutes to settle back into his routine: check email, respond to the most urgent, triage the rest; read through the results of a simulation he'd set off the prior day, and then finally started in on the readings that Radek and Miko had taken. He trusted them; he knew they were right. But he needed to understand as much as he could before he talked to John again.

Without surprise, he read row after row of data confirming no change in background radiation of any kind they could measure. He admired how thorough Radek and Miko had been. There was a footnote that they'd even brought Kimmy Standing in; it was utter nonsense, but Kimmy had a reputation for second sight. But she'd neither seen or felt anything.

The boy had just appeared. He just happened to have the same name as John. He looked nothing like John. Rodney scratched his head thoughtfully. He had a feeling -- which he knew Radek and Miko shared, though it didn't appear in their report -- that the Ancients were involved. Occam's Razor said to choose the simplest explanation, but how could a nearly supernatural race of beings be simple? It was fucked.

He slapped his hand onto the counter top, sighed, and looked up to find John watching him, his eyes thoughtful and distant. "Hey," he said.

John pushed away from the wall and wandered next to Rodney so they stood together looking at the report on Rodney's monitor. "No luck?" John asked, but Rodney could tell that he already knew the answer.

He shook his head. "What did you tell the boy?"

"Ah, well." He glanced at Rodney from the corner of his eye. "I thought maybe we could do it together. Take him for a walk or something."

"Let's wait till Teyla's back, have her do it."

"Rodney," John said in that familiar whine. "That wouldn't be fair."

"Also, Chester won't let you," Rodney guessed. "Shit. I don't know what to tell him."

"The truth," Miko said, startling him, though John turned calmly enough. She pushed up her glasses. "You should tell him the truth: that we don't know. He will understand. But you must make him feel welcome. Tell him we are glad he has come to us."

"Are we?" Rodney asked her.

Her cheeks colored lightly. "Yes, we are." Behind her, Radek walked up, arms crossed, looking sternly at Rodney.

"Don't say it," Rodney told him. He turned to John. "So. How about the balcony above the jumper bay?"

"Good choice," John said, lightly slapping Rodney's upper arm. "Let's get this over."

"And then what?" Radek asked.

"Then what what?" Rodney asked irritably.

John said, "We have to take care of him, until we can figure this out. I thought maybe we could take turns. Keep him busy. His mind off stuff."

After a long moment, Miko said, "I will work up a schedule." She looked meaningfully at Rodney.

"I'm a busy man," he started, but John elbowed him.

"Will you stop with the physical abuse?" Rodney said.

John gently took his arm and led him from the lab. "Thanks, Miko," he called. He pulled Rodney along in his wake, as he always did, Rodney thought sourly, but he followed.

They collected John from the infirmary, Chester giving them significant looks, but the boy seemed cheerful enough to be reunited with John. He was also very curious about Rodney's work.

"I don't know what they do," he said very politely when Rodney told him he was a physicist.

"Physicists? Someone who does physics. Which is, hm. The study of the basic building blocks of the universe. Mass, matter, energy."

"You've heard of E equals m c squared," John told him.

"Sure, Einstein. Everybody knows that."

"Well, Rodney knows it better than anybody else. He knows more about certain types of energy than anyone else ever."

"Wow." John looked up at Rodney, who felt himself straighten. "My dad works in energy. Is that the same kind? Do you know him?"

Rodney looked at John, catching a flash of pain on his face. "No," John said quickly. "Different kind of energy."

"Well, technically, energy is energy," Rodney said, ignoring the glance John gave him. "But no, I don't know your dad. He's in business, yes? I'm a scientist. The two don't often meet. Fortunately or unfortunately."

They stepped out onto the balcony. The day was still warm, though Rodney felt something in the air that said summer to him; the direction of the wind, the color of the ocean. He took a deep breath, bracing himself on the balcony railing. Beside him, the mysterious boy named John came to stand, his head just the height of the railing so he had to stand on his toes to look out over it. Then John stepped up, resting one hand on the boy's shoulder. Rodney watched as he licked his lower lip, straightened his back, and said, "John, we need to talk."

John looked up, the breeze brushing his light brown hair back. Rodney noticed again how different he looked from John: his eyes were a clear grey, his hair much lighter, his face squarer. "It's about my parents," John said, his voice nearly lost.

Rodney, moved by some impulse he didn't understand, took the boy by the hand and drew him away from the railing, settling onto a bench. John followed, then hesitantly sat next to them.

"Are they dead?" John asked quietly. His eyes filled with tears.

"Hey, hey," John said, and gathered the boy to him. "We don't know. That's the problem: we just don't know."

Rodney thought of Madison, of himself as a little boy, and took a deep breath. "Did John tell you anything about himself?" he asked the boy, who looked at him curiously, and shook his head. "His name is John Sheppard, too. And his parents w-- his parents are Patrick and Clarice. And he had an aunt visit them in Virginia."

John looked up at Sheppard. "It's true," John said. "I can't understand it. But everything you told us, it all happened to me when I was your age."

"You're a scientist," John said to Rodney. "Can you fix it?"

"I'll try," he promised him. His heart felt too big for his chest, and John's shoulder felt tiny beneath his hand. "Everyone in Atlantis will try to get you home."

"So am I you," he asked John, "but little?"

John shook his head. "I don't know. I don't think so. I didn't look like you when I was your age. We don't know if you came through time or --" He glanced at Rodney. "Or from someplace else."

"I don't understand." He turned his face away; Rodney knew he was trying not to cry. More than ever he wished Teyla were there; she'd know what to do, and Torren would be a distraction for John.

John Sheppard moved the other John Sheppard into his lap and let him hide his face in his jacket. Rodney scooted closer, keeping his hand on John's thin shoulder. After a while, he asked, "What's the last thing you remember? Before you woke up here?"

"I was playing frisbee with my dog, Patch." Rodney glanced at John, who nodded: so he'd had a dog named Patch, too. "It was really sunny and my head hurt a little bit. I sat in the shade to rest. Then I woke up with you." He looked up at John again, and Rodney suddenly recognized that look. He knew he'd worn it. The look said _you will save me, won't you_.

"We'll figure it out," Rodney said. "I've got a whole lab full of the most brilliant scientists, no one more brilliant than I am, so we'll figure it out."

John buried his face in John's jacket again. Rodney rubbed his temples. He wanted to shout, but he didn't know at whom. What a stupid thing to happen. Like something the Ancients would do.

"What's your mom call you?" John asked the boy suddenly.

He peeped up at John. "It's a baby name," he said.

"Will?"

He nodded.

"Would it be okay if we called you Will? Since I'm John Sheppard, too? And I bet you don't want to be Little John."

Will made a face. "Ew. No. That's what Todd Ingram calls me. He says it means I'm a little prick." John finished in unison with him.

"Todd?" Rodney asked.

"He's the prick," John said firmly. "And I know for a fact he grows up to be an even bigger prick."

"Hey," Rodney said, mildly offended. "Should you talk like that in front of the boy?"

"I know what _prick_ means," Will said.

"He knows not to say it in front of Woolsey. Or Doctor Bharadwaj."

"Duh," Will said scornfully. "I'd rather be Will than Little John, or Johnny, or Pat. Dad sometimes calls me Pat." John nodded, and stroked Will's hair.

"So you must be around ten?" John asked Will.

"Ten and seven months."

"Then you have a little brother."

"Yeah, Dave." He made a face. "He's okay, but."

"I know," John said. "He's perfect."

The three of them laughed, Rodney in surprise. He'd never heard John say anything so intimate. Will said, "It's just, I like to run and ride and swim and do things, but Davey just likes to be at home, so his clothes stay clean and stuff."

"I know, I know," John said ruefully.

Rodney clapped his hands twice. "Okay, I'm cold and getting stiff. Let's go in."

As they walked back toward the infirmary, Will asked, "Where are we? If you're me, I'm old, so it's the future, but when? And where?"

"I hate time travel," Rodney grumbled.

"It's a little over thirty years in your future," John said. Will looked blank. "And we are a long, long way from Virginia. No horses here, or dogs, either."

"We used to have whales," Rodney said, still missing Sam and his mother.

"But we have spaceships," John added. "They're pretty cool."

"Really? You're an astronaut? Like Neil Armstrong?"

Rodney scoffed. "He's like a million times cooler."

John looked at him in surprise. "Thank you," he said. Rodney was embarrassed; the words had just burst out.

"Well, maybe not _cooler_ ," he corrected himself. "But he's flown a helluva lot more than Armstrong was ever able to."

"Wow," Will said. "Um."

"Yes, yes, he'll take you up. After we get Doctor Bharadwaj's approval."

"So, you hungry? Tired? What would you like?"

"To see the spaceships."

"Oh my god, he is you," Rodney said, but he was pleased. He led the way to the nearest transporter that would take them to the jumper bay.

Radek was there, clipboard in hand, hair wild. "Hello, hello," he greeted Will.

"Will," Rodney said, pointing at the boy. "So we don't get them mixed up."

"Will is a good name," Radek said. "Less confusing, too. You are here to see the jumpers?"

"The spaceships," Will said.

"We call them jumpers, puddlejumpers," John explained. He led Will to the starboard entrance; Rodney could hear their voices. He looked at Radek.

"I have a theory," Radek said. "I don't like it."

"I know what you're going to say. Something like Janus and Elizabeth?" Radek nodded. "But why? How?"

"That I don't know. But Rodney, there is no radiation, no signs of another universe brushing against ours. Nothing like when Rod was here."

"Thank god," Rodney muttered.

"I liked Rod," Radek said, but Rodney knew he was joking. They both sighed. "Miko and the new psychologist, Lina? Linda? They are working out what to do with John --"

"Will."

"With Will while he is here in Atlantis."

"Where the hell would he be? If he's John as a kid, what do you imagine will happen to him?"

Radek stared at Rodney, who realized he'd raised his voice. "What will they do?" Radek asked, and suddenly Rodney had a vision of Will taken away to be raised like some alien creature, put in the zoo of the SGC.

"Shit," he said. Radek nodded, and they both turned to watch John and Will emerge from the jumper, their eyes shining.

"Hello, Will," Radek said. "You like the jumper?"

"So cool the way it glows," he said excitedly.

Rodney looked at John, who shook his head. "No gene," he mouthed, or Rodney thought he did. So. Rodney studied the boy talking excitedly to Radek; this was the most revealing he'd been since they'd found him. A happy child, then, who loved his dog Patch and played frisbee and thought astronauts were cool. If Will was ten, then he must think that it was 1977, eight years after the moon landing. He was too young to remember that; he would have only been two. But someone had told him about the moon landing, had excited him about space. Somehow Rodney knew it hadn't been his father.

No ATA gene, though, or at least not a strong one. John had the strongest manifestation of the gene of anyone Rodney had ever worked with. Supposedly Jack O'Neill's was stronger, but Rodney had never believed that, no matter who said it. John made Atlantis light up in a way that made everyone else's gene seem as artificial as Rodney's. Did the manifestation grow with age? Maybe puberty triggered it?

The four of them wandered slowly through the halls of Atlantis: first down to the gateroom floor, then to the infirmary. John and Will went ahead, talking animatedly about space and flying; Rodney and Radek followed more slowly, ostensibly discussing readings that a gate team had brought back from P2X-789 but every word felt coded to Rodney.

They were met at the infirmary by Woolsey, Chester, and the new psychologist whose name neither Rodney nor Radek could ever remember. John put his hand on Will's shoulder; Will drew nearer to him. Radek and Rodney glanced at each other and moved to stand on either side of them.

"Hello," Woolsey said to the boy, as awkward as always.

"You remember Mister Woolsey," John told him. "This is Will."

"Will? I thought your name was John?" Chester asked him, kneeling in front of him.

Will stepped halfway behind John. "Middle name," he mumbled, turning shy. All that energy dissipated.

"It's a good idea," Chester said. "Good name, too. Will, I'd like you to spend some time with Lisa Maeing here, Lisa?"

"Hi, Will." Rodney watched suspiciously as they shook hands. Lisa seemed nice enough. She'd worked for the SGC for a while and knew about gate teams and the stressors, but he'd rather talk to Teyla any day. "Do you want to see my office? Or is there someplace you'd like to go?"

Will looked up at John, but before he could respond, Miko Kusanagi said, "Why not bring him to my lab? Linda Simpson and I are working on an engineering project that we think Will would find interesting."

His face brightened, and he looked up at John again -- for permission, Rodney thought.

"Go on. Miko'll take good care of you."

"Thank you, Miko," Lisa said, and she seemed to mean it. Rodney watched the two women leave with Will between them. When they were gone, Woolsey said, "Colonel, Doctor McKay, Doctor Bharadwaj -- I think it's time for a meeting. The conference room?"

Radek murmured to Rodney, "I will talk to Major Lorne," and slipped away.

"It seems to me," Woolsey said once they were seated around the conference table, "that we have some decisions to make. If this boy is a younger version of Colonel Sheppard, whether brought forward from his past or from another universe, we must make a concerted effort to return him. But we must also keep in mind the possibility that he will have to remain in this universe, in this timeline. In which case, what will happen to him?"

"Don't you think it's a little early to be worrying about that?" Rodney asked, leaning forward. "If it's possible to get him back, I will. My team and I will," he added.

"I agree with Doctor McKay," John said slowly. "What's the rush to make this decision? We need more information."

"What will we do with a child on Atlantis?" Chester asked. "Even for a short time?"

"What if it takes you a month to figure this out?" Woolsey asked, looking at Rodney. "What are we to do with the boy? Frankly, Doctor McKay, based on my experience with the IOA and SGC, we can't even be sure he _is_ a boy."

"His name is Will," John said. "And we're working on that; we'll take turns monitoring him.. Make sure he eats, sleeps, and doesn't turn into a monster."

"That's admirable of you, Colonel," Woolsey said. "But how practical? What if there's another Wraith attack? What happens when your team is off-world?"

"Teyla manages with Torren," Rodney said.

"Teyla and Torren are Athosian," Woolsey pointed out. "They belong here in Pegasus. Will clearly does not."

"Okay, just get to the point: What do you want to do with him?" John asked, sitting up.

"I think -- Doctor Bharadwaj and I think that he should be returned to Earth."

"Which Earth?" Rodney said sharply. "And where on Earth? To the SGC? They don't have a place for him. If he has a place, it's here."

"He came to us," John said. "We don't know how yet, but Rodney'll figure it out. Will is our responsibility."

"That sounds rather mystical," Woolsey said, but Bharadwaj interrupted him.

"You feel strongly about this," he said.

Rodney tried to imagine what Chester was thinking, but he had a poker face, even more than John did. "Uh, yeah," Rodney said.

"What do you plan to do with him?" Chester asked.

Rodney opened his mouth but before he could respond, John said, "Chester, he isn't an artifact for us to study, or a theorem to prove. He's like Ronon: a survivor of a culled world." John shut his mouth and from the look on his face, Rodney didn't think he'd say anything else. There was an awkward silence; neither Chester nor Woolsey knew John as well as Rodney did, he understood. They were waiting for more.

Well, let them wait. What was the rush anyway? The only rush should be to find the truth, whether it was of Will's origins or the construction of a ZPM. That was the project he was most interested in these days, and every discovery made moved him and his team closer. Rodney believed that. He believed that one day, within his working lifetime, they would be able to re-charge a ZPM. And once they knew how to re-charge one, they would know how to build one.

"Very well," Woolsey said, interrupting his thoughts. "I expect this not to interfere with your duties," he added, looking directly at John.

John nodded. "Of course."

"So, back to work," Rodney said hastily, standing. Too many undercurrents of meaning here; he was bored and irritated and though he'd never admit it, a bit concerned.

"They have a point," he said abruptly to John when they were in the transporter. In a heartbeat they arrived on the floor and wing of the main labs. "It is within the realm of the possible that Will's a spy, or a bomb, or a, uh, I don't know. Something. Weirder shit has happened at the SGC."

"Do you think he is?"

"Don't be ridiculous. But he just appeared. No noise? Nothing?"

"Nothing, Rodney. And yeah, I know he could be dangerous. A bomb, like you say. But I don't think that means he should go to Earth. We just need to keep our eyes on him."

"You said he was a survivor of a culled world." Rodney stopped abruptly. "How do you know?"

"I don't. And I didn't say that. I said he was like Ronon, who's the survivor of a culled world. I just meant that he's all alone."

"Hmm." Rodney heard shouts and laughter ahead; he paused, glanced at John, and they hurried on.

Thought it was late afternoon, a time when most of the scientists were settled at their stations, reviewing the status of their projects and preparing reports for their department heads. Instead, many were gathered around Miko and Lisa and Will, including Radek -- whom Rodney clearly remembered complaining about children. Will was tossing a balloon-like object, pale blue, that wafted slowly back to him. "Hey," John said, a quick grin coming to him. He raised a hand and to Rodney's surprise, the blue thing slowly rose over everyone's head and glided directly to John. "I wondered what this was," John said, turning it in his hand.

"What is it?" Rodney asked.

"I have no idea. Here," he said, and put up his hand again. The blue thing lifted up and sailed across the lab. As it passed over their heads, many put up their hands, and it swung idly around them, as if maneuvering through an obstacle course. John laughed and stepped into the middle of the crowd, coming to stand next to Will. "Can you catch it?" he asked.

Will looked shyly at him, admiration glowing in his eyes, Rodney thought, and then reached high above his head. The blue balloon reshaped itself and glided slowly down to him. "Wow," he murmured, and the others laughed.

"Did you do that?" Rodney asked John quietly. John grinned at him and made his way to Will.

"Very good, Colonel," Radek said.

"Yeah, Linda and I've been working on it," John said.

"Linda?" Rodney asked quickly.

"Simpson," John, Radek, and Linda replied.

"Oh. What is it?"

"I don't know," John said. "But it's pretty cool."

Will opened his hand and the blue thing rose like a miniature puddlejumper, hovering in mid air until John put out his hand and it sailed to him.

"Wow," Rodney said.

They spent the next fifteen minutes playing with the blue thing, Simpson catching Rodney up on where it had been found (by John on one of his runs with Ronon), what testing they'd performed (sadly, all the tests he could think of so he couldn't berate her too much), and their discovery that John had some control over its performance. "Polymerized, I'm certain," Linda told him, watching Will and John and the blue thing, "but Ramen spectroscopy, NMR spectroscopy, all the spectrophies we can do here, gas analysis -- so far, no helpful results. The molecular shape is new to us, and the resonance variable."

"Variable," Rodney murmured.

"Yeah, I know." They stared at John and Will; John had persuaded the blue thing to move a bit faster, changing its shape from oval to spherical and smaller. John's laughter made Rodney smile, and he shooed Simpson away.

John's watch timer started beeping eventually. "Hey, Teyla and the others are back," he said. "Come on, you need to meet them." He took Will's hand and led him away. Will turned back to wave at the scientists, who returned, smiling, to their stations.

"Time for dinner," someone said, and Rodney's stomach growled in agreement. He followed John and Will, though, and caught up with them in the transporter.

"These are not elevators," Will said, looking up at John.

"No, they're -- what are they, Rodney?"

"Well, they're obviously based on ring technology, which we thought was Goa'uld but now we know is Ancient and that means nothing to you, does it," he said to Will. He shook his head. "Ah. There are two sets of rings, which we can't see because --" He stopped to let Will out ahead of him, John following, "because see, the transporter, the elevator, is inside them. The rings transport matter between them. We've done some testing on the technology back at Area 52, that's in Nevada, and found they could transport matter several AUs -- astronomical units. That's the distance between the Earth and the Sun."

Will just looked at him, his pale eyes wide. Rodney felt an irrational urge to take his hand, to comfort him. He cleared his throat, rubbed his hands together. "So. Teyla is one of our teammates. She has a little boy named Torren."

"Torren John," John corrected him, and then they walked into the gateroom. "Teyla!"

"John, Rodney." She came to them. John bowed his head and for a moment they stood together. Will watched them closely, looking concerned. When Teyla and John stood apart, Ronon swooped in and grabbed John around the waist, lifting him off the floor. Torren laughed delightedly from his father's arms.

"Hey, hey, buddy," John said, laughing, and Ronon set him down, then turned to Rodney.

"Oh no, oh no," he said, backing up, and pulled Will in front of him.

"Who is this?" Teyla asked, bending forward.

"This is Will. Will, these are our friends: Teyla, Ronon, Kanaan, and this little fella is Torren," John said.

"Hello," Will said in a faint voice.

"We are very glad to meet you, Will," Teyla said. "I see that Atlantis has kept busy while we were away. Perhaps John and Rodney will explain?"

"Perhaps we will," Rodney said.

"Let's get you to your quarters first," John said. They gathered up their belongings -- Rodney sniffed inquisitively; he was sure that Teyla had brought back his favorite fruit, the _emamba_. She gave him a quick smile and Kanaan tossed him a heavy parcel wrapped in green twine: oh, yeah, this was the good stuff. He breathed it in luxuriously, and then, catching sight of Will's puzzled look, leant down. "Sniff," he said, and Will did.

"Now you'll have to share," John said, nudging him.

Somewhat to Rodney's surprise, Woolsey came out of his office to greet Teyla, Kanaan, and Ronon, though Rodney thought he eyed Will suspiciously. John urged them on, and Ronon helped herd them back to the transporter. At last they spilled out into the corridor leading to Teyla and Kanaan's quarters. "So what's Woolsey's problem?" Ronon asked.

Rodney looked at John, who bit his lower lip. Will said, "Mister Woolsey doesn't like me."

"That's not true," John said quickly.

Rodney said, "Well, it pretty much is. Woolsey's an ass," he told Will, "so don't take it personally."

"I am sorry to learn this," Teyla said. Kanaan let them into the large rooms, setting Torren down, who started running in circles.

"My god, he's gone mad," Rodney said staring at him.

Torren rushed up to Will, bounced off him, and sat heavily. Will squatted next to him and they grinned at each other. Rodney rolled his eyes; yes, yes, they were cute. Torren said, "Hi!"

Will said, "Hi, Torren. I'm Will."

"Will! Willlllll!"

Rodney clapped his hands over his ears; he knew from experience that Torren could go supersonic when excited. But Will just lay next to Torren on the rug and tickled his toes, making Torren giggle and grab at Will. The adults watched them for a few minutes before Teyla drew them aside.

"Whose kid?" Ronon asked quietly, watching the boys.

"Well, that's a good question," John said. He rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture Rodney knew well.

Will said, "No one knows."

They turned to look at him. He pulled himself up and sat next to Torren, who yawned and leaned against Will. "I woke up here, but nobody knows how."

Kanaan said, "Why do these things happen in Atlantis?"

Teyla said, "What do you mean, Will? John?"

"Yeah, um," John said. "Will's right. What happened was I found him in my bathroom, just this morning. It's been kind of a big day."

"It's more than that," Rodney started, but Will said, "My name is John William Sheppard. I was born January fifth, in 1967. Just like you," he said to John.

John knelt next to him. Torren laughed and reached for John, who picked him up and held him on his knee. "What do you think happened?" he asked Will.

WIll shook his head. "I'm just ten," he said. "I'm not a genius like Rodney. But I think I fell asleep and didn't wake up until this morning."

"Oh my god," Rodney moaned. "Of course you're not a genius like me; nobody is. But what are you saying? That you've been asleep since 1977?"

"When was 1977?" Ronon asked.

"A long time ago," Rodney said.

"Not _that_ long ago," John said irritably. "Jesus." Torren squirmed in his lap, yawned hugely, and farted. "Uh, Teyla."

"Yes, yes, I will take him," she said.

"Poo!" Torren crowed.

"Yuck," Ronon said. "So what, you two're the same person? How's that work?"

"We have no idea," Rodney snapped. "We don't know if he's the same person; the fact that they're in the same room at the same time seems to preclude that. We have no idea how Will got here; all our testing thus far has been for naught. In other words, we don't know shit." He looked at Will. "Um, sorry."

"Well, no matter where Will came from," Teyla called, "he is with us now, and it is our responsibility to see that he is cared for."

Ronon stood up. "I could eat. Kanaan?"

Teyla returned carrying a sweeter-smelling Torren. "I believe we should share a meal. Perhaps the others will join us." She looked at Rodney who huffed, then tapped his phone. "Kusanagi? Simpson? Zelenka? Meet me in the mess hall. Oh. Well, uh, I'll see you there." He looked at Teyla. "They're already there."

In the mess hall, they pushed two long tables together; the better to brainstorm, as Linda Simpson said. Rodney made sure Will had a balanced meal on his tray and not just sweets, as much as he himself preferred pudding. "The, the chicken pot pie isn't bad, even though it isn't really chicken."

"What is it?" Will asked, carefully balancing his full tray.

"Hmm. Let's see, it's from PX2-849, and it was called . . . _fleoten_ , I think, which sounds like something that should be able to fly but it couldn't. So -- chicken."

Will grinned at him and followed him to the tables where others waited, watching them. In fact, Rodney noted, everybody in the mess hall were watching them, some more openly than others. Will settled at the table -- next to John, of course. Miko slipped Will a daifuku mochi in a folded paper, and Linda began talking enthusiastically to him about _Black Beauty_ , apparently one of their favorite books.

Rodney's attention was drawn away when Teyla said quietly, "Please explain again how this happened."

John shook his head. "I went for a run. I went back to my quarters to take a shower and he was lying on the floor. I couldn't wake him, so I called medical. He has the same name as me, the same memories. It's like -- it's like he's me."

Teyla frowned, and set down her fork. "Rodney?"

"I got nothing," he said. "I know you're remembering Rod, but it takes a lot of energy to move from one universe to another. There would be energy readings, residual radiation, something to indicate a singularity. Maybe there is, but so far we haven't found anything."

"He doesn't resemble you," Kanaan said, frowning. "If you are the same person, there should be some resemblance."

"I noticed," John said dryly.

"Yeah, the ears," Rodney said.

Will looked up and Rodney realized he'd been listening to them as much as to Simpson.

"He looks like my brother," John said.

"Yeah," Ronon agreed, leaning back and studying will. "He really does."

"And my dad. Dad always used to say that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"So what, you look like your mum?" Rodney asked.

John leaned forward, eyes down. "Not so much," he murmured.

"You do not often speak of your childhood, or your family," Teyla said.

"Naw. Not much to say."

"Well, I think there is now," Rodney snapped. "Will. You're, what'd you say, ten? So you're in Grade Four?"

"We say fourth grade," John corrected.

"I'm talking to Will."

"Yessir," Will said. "But they want to jump me a grade. I don't want to except classes are pretty boring."

Rodney gave John a look. He'd always known that slacker pose was just an act. "What's your best subject?"

"I like languages. I can speak French and I'm learning Spanish. Mirielle is French. She takes care of me."

"You had a nanny"? Rodney asked John, whose shoulders drew up. "Wow. Was she pretty? Did you have fantasies?"

"She left," John said shortly. "When I was -- actually, when I was ten." He and Will gazed at each other. Suddenly Will yawned.

"Torren is already dozing," Kanaan said. "Perhaps Will should stay with us tonight."

"That's okay," John said. "He's going to stay with me." Will brightened.

"Thank you," Will said.

"We have to stop by the infirmary, and Lisa wants to see you again, but then we'll get a cot for you, set it up."

"I'll do that," Ronon said standing. "McKay, you help."

"What, me? Why? It's not exactly theoretical physics." Ronon narrowed his eyes. Rodney tossed his napkin onto his plate. "All right, I can take a hint."

"See you in a while," John said, and Rodney thought he meant it. He nodded and followed Ronon.

"So what?" he asked once they were out in the corridor. "You certainly don't need my help to set up a cot."

"Who is that kid? Why's he here? Is he Sheppard's?"

"What? No, I mean, I don't know, but I don't think so." He trotted a bit to catch up with Ronon. "Seriously, we don't know. My guess is he's from another universe, like Rod, but we can't find any evidence of a transfer. However he got here, it wasn't easy."

"Is he a danger? He looks like a kid, but he could be something else. We've seen that."

"Yeah, we have." Rodney brooded as they walked. "I hope not. Radek and the others are working on it, and I will tonight, after. Well, after."

Ronon took Rodney to the infirmary, where they did have a supply of cots; how did Ronon know that? But he did, and he carried the awkward thing to John's quarters. "Jesus, not much space in here," Rodney said, not for the first time. "He's the commander of the entire base; shouldn't he have, you know, a grownup's room?"

"Push his bed over there," Ronon said. "Make room for this." They pushed and rearranged until there was space for the cot and a walkway between the bed and it. At one point, Ronon brushed past the curtains. He paused and picked one up by the hem, smirking at Rodney. Rodney grinned too. He was very fond of John's curtains. He didn't think another commander in two galaxies had anything like them.

When the room was ready, they paused by the door, both of them with their arms crossed, studying it. "He likes Will," Ronon said.

"Yeah."

"He could be. You know. Hurt."

"Shut up," Rodney said without heat. He'd been thinking the same thing. Will had been here less than a day but John had already extended his protection over him. Rodney made a face. It was too late to worry about that. The doors slid open and John and Will entered, both looking a bit sour. Will carried a toothbrush.

"What's wrong?" Rodney asked, wondering when he'd become so attuned to John.

"Aw, just that psychologist. She wanted Will to stay in the infirmary. Chester okayed him staying here, though, but we have to check back in first thing in the morning." He shrugged. "And I have to call in a couple times."

"Well," Rodney said. "We'll just leave you --"

"Chess?" John said. "Turns out Will is learning chess. Thought maybe you'd like to play."

"Not me," Ronon said and left.

"Uh, well, sure. A game. Or three," he added. "Depending. I suppose all you have is that American swill you call beer," Rodney said, but he didn't object when John handed him one. He'd grown used to the taste; it reminded him of Atlantis, and of John. He watched John get out the chessboard and Will set it up. "Okay," Rodney said, rubbing his hands together. "You do the honors?" he asked, handing John two pieces. "White or black, Will?"

"Wait," John said, and pointed at the new toothbrush sitting next to the chessboard. "That first, then this."

Rodney felt his eyebrows raise, but said nothing, just continued to fuss with the set up. John really needed a bigger room with more furniture.

Will played slowly and carefully, and occasionally John whispered into his ear. Rodney groused loudly at that, but he watched approvingly as Will's strategy emerged. Then Will began to yawn, and yawn again, and his eyelids lowered. Rodney glanced at John and. And. The affection on John's face surprised Rodney; he had rarely seen him so open. He knew from Ronon that John had been married briefly, and wondered if at some time he had wanted children. He didn't know how good a father John would make. His suicidal tendencies, for one thing, and his reluctance to share himself. But maybe a son would have changed John, would have helped him the way he would have helped a son.

Rodney yawned at the same time Will did. It was late and had been a big day, too big. He sat quietly while John helped Will onto the cot, slipped off his shoes, and gently covered him. He sat at Will's place at the chessboard. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Rodney admitted. "I hate to say it, but nothing makes sense. I know it's hard for you to understand, but there has to be some residual radiation if we're going to explain Will away. He simply could not magically appear the way you describe."

"Well, he's here," John said, gesturing toward the sleeping child.

"I know he's here; I've been playing chess with him." John made a face and Rodney lowered his voice. "I'll figure it out. But I understand why Woolsey is a bit nervous about this. We've seen some weird shit. Plus there was that _Star Trek_ episode about the planet of the kids, remember?"

John narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, so before he could say anything scathing, Rodney said, "You want to finish this game?"

They played quietly and intensely, but slowly, neither of them speaking much. Rodney didn't want to leave John and Will and, though he rarely trusted his feelings, he felt that John didn't want him to leave, either. So he stayed, and when they finally finished the game (which John won totally unfairly and his winning streak made no sense), Rodney encouraged him to open two more beers. For a while longer they sat side-by-side on John's ridiculously narrow bed, watching Will sleep.

Rodney actually dozed off himself, waking with a jerk to see John taking his can of beer. "I should go," he whispered, rubbing his shoulder, the one that had been shot a few years ago. He sighed. "I'm going to go. But." He stood, feeling awkward. "But call me if. You know."

"Yeah." They stared at each other, and then Rodney forced himself to go.

He wandered by the labs; two of the newer scientists were there at this hour. They worked in chemical engineering, he thought, nodding approvingly to himself. Utterly intent, they never noticed him while they discussed the Ancients' fuel cell technology. Not as powerful as a ZPM, but still a very useful adjunct energy source.

He moved on. Atlantis late at night, during a non-emergency, was a different place. Though in general he liked quiet, this quiet was almost oppressive, as if they were still thousands of feet beneath the surface of the ocean on which he knew they floated. Those Ancients sure had mastered sound proofing. Occasionally Rodney overheard talk of ghosts and spirits; he'd never admit it, but he did wonder about all those ascended beings. Were they ever curious about their old home? Did they watch? They certainly didn't watch over the new inhabitants of Atlantis. Years ago, when he'd first been introduced to Ancient technology, he thought they must have been like gods. Now he knew they were human. Just more powerful, and so more dangerous.

He realized he was standing near John's quarters -- without meaning to, he'd wound his way back here. He straightened, took a deep breath, and went directly to his own quarters. where he spent a sleepless night.

Rodney met John for breakfast most days, and the rest of the team as well quite often. Without intending to, he had fallen into a routine like no other time in his life. He liked it. Seeing John before he assumed his Lieutenant Colonel persona even now gave Rodney a shiver of pleasure -- he knew the real John Sheppard.

So despite late hours and a strong preference to start work mid-morning, in Atlantis Rodney had altered his schedule and managed to find his sleepy way to the mess hall most mornings. There, he sat next to John and across from Ronon, with Kanaan and Teyla and an equally sleepy Torren.

And today with Will, looking a bit lost, cautiously examining the breakfast food that Rodney had become accustomed to over his years in Pegasus.

"Don't worry," Rodney said, scooping up a big spoonful of the stuff Carson had called porridge. "It's edible."

"My people have eaten _tchenaya_ during good times and bad," Teyla reassured him. "Though without all the sweetener that Rodney uses."

"Hey, I've cut back," Rodney protested before realizing that he was being teased.

"What're you gonna do today?" Ronon asked and for an instant Rodney thought he was asking him. Then he looked at Will, who looked to John.

"Paperwork," John said, "or Lorne'll shoot me. I thought Will could stay with me."

"Could work out with me," Ronon offered.

"In the early afternoon, I would be happy to have some help with Torren," Teyla suggested.

"What would you like?" John asked him. "A little bit of everything?"

"Um. Would it be okay?"

"Of course it would," Teyla said warmly. Rodney felt as though he should offer to do something with Will, but what could he do for a ten-year-old boy? So he kept quiet, but he thought about it. What did Teyla do with Torren all day? What did the other Athosian kids do?

Later that morning, after reviewing their endless and ever-growing to do list, Rodney asked Radek, who said, "He said he likes languages, yes? Let me talk to the others."

"Don't waste too much time on this," Rodney warned. "And don't roll your eyes at me!"

But he felt guilty, enough that when Lorne came by to sort out an issue with scientists on gate teams, Rodney mentioned Will. "He's a good kid," Lorne said. "I miss having kids around. Most of the bases I've served on had families with kids, and I miss my nephews."

"So you don't mind having him around?"

"McKay, he's just a kid. The colonel'll make sure he doesn't bother you."

"No, hey, that's not what I meant." They glared at each other, then Rodney said, "I just. I thought you military types would object."

"Us military types, huh?" Lorne shrugged. "Doctor Bharadwaj cleared him, you cleared him, and the colonel thinks he's okay. He's a nice kid. So no, I don't object."

"Good. That's good. I don't, either. Object."

"Well, that's very nice, Doctor McKay, but could we get back on task here?"

"Yes, yes," Rodney agreed, but he was still thinking about what to do with Will when Lorne finally left, list completed.

Then he fell back into his work and forgot about everything else. By the time John shook him, it was nearly midnight. "Go," John said sternly.

"What are you doing up?"

John raised an eyebrow. "I put Will to bed, met with two idiots who decided it would be a good idea to try to make a still. They borrowed some equipment, missed mandatory duty, and then got into a noisy argument."

"Oh. Well."

"That's what I said. Come on, Rodney. It's late. You'll be impossible tomorrow."

Rodney thought about objecting, but he was tired, and he was flattered that John came looking for him. As he followed John, making sure the lights were out and the doors shut behind them, he asked, "How's Will?"

John shrugged. "He misses his family," was all he said. Rodney didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't. John walked him to his quarters, and they stood there, Rodney feeling awkward, until John said briskly, "Good night," and headed toward the nearest transporter.

Rodney yawned until his eyes watered, and went inside and to bed.

The next morning, in the mess hall, he found John by the coffee. He gave Rodney a doubletake. "You look like shit."

"Thank you. I had too much to think about." He looked more closely at John. "Not much sleep for you, either," he guessed.

John shook his head. "Will had a couple nightmares. Called for his mom." He made a face. "Cried a little, and then was embarrassed."

"Jesus." Rodney drew himself a mug of coffee, inhaled it, and took a deep drink. "Suppose you hated to cry as a kid."

John shrugged. They turned to gaze across the mess hall, slowly filling. Rodney saw Will sitting with Teyla, Kanaan, and Torren. He was helping Torren eat, a spoon making aerial maneuvers before landing in Torren's baby bird mouth. Rodney heard Will's laughter, and saw Teyla stroke the back of his head.

"Seems all right this morning," Rodney said tentatively. He was casting about for something else to say when Chester interrupted them.

"Colonel, Doctor McKay."

"Morning, Chester," John said, instantly relaxing into his too-cool-for-you posture. One of his shoulders brushed against Rodney's, and he leaned into John, trying to look just as relaxed. "Coffee's good this morning."

"Yes, and you drink too much of it, Colonel, as do you, Rodney."

Chester was a big guy; he'd played cricket in India as a young man, Rodney knew, though he didn't think cricketers were usually built like a brick wall. He stood in front of them, arms crossed, but the expression on his face wasn't the normal disapproval. He looked, Rodney thought, compassionate.

"So," Rodney said brightly, "breakfast? What's good? Do they have that porridge with the fake-raisins? That's good for you, right, Chester?"

"Yes, Rodney. Colonel, could I see you briefly?"

John set down his mug and straightened. Rodney took another gulp and followed them out. Uninvited or not, he was going to hear Chester's news.

He led them to his office at the back of the infirmary, the small room Rodney was getting to know too well. He rolled his eyes when Rodney followed John in, but didn't object, simply shut the door. He settled at his desk and gestured at the two child-sized chairs across from him. Rodney's knee was bobbing when he sat, enough that John rested his hand on it until he stilled.

"John," Chester said, "I've run the DNA tests through both the Ancient and Asgard equipment. Earth equipment takes much longer and I won't have an answer until next week, or at least one I feel confident in. I do have the results of one test but the technology is still very new. But all test results -- the Ancient, the Asgard, and the SGC test -- are the same." He pulled from a folder on his desk several sheets of film about a foot square each. "I ran several tests, but the best one in this situation is the Y-DNA test.

"I wish Carson were here," Chester continued. "This was his strength. But he's not, so it's up to me. I'll go into as much detail as you want, but let start by saying that I'm satisfied with these results. Satisfied meaning that I think they're accurate.

"I checked thirty-seven Y-DNA markers and mitrochondrial DNA with all three technologies. I was up most of the night running tests. John, I don't know what this means, but there is no way that you and that boy are related. Not even very distantly."

"Is he human?" Rodney asked quickly.

"As human as you or I," Chester said. "Furthermore, he does not possess the slightest manifestation of the ATA-gene. I wouldn't consider that conclusive about any connection between the two of you, but in conjunction with the other evidence, I am quite confident that the person you call Will is not related to you."

There was a pause, and John said, "So he's not me as a little boy come into the future somehow. That's good."

Rodney wanted to pop John on the back of his head but restrained himself. "The question remains: who is he," he snapped. "Chester, if there were any residual radiation, which would indicate he's from an alternate universe, it's dissipated by now. We couldn't find anything. But little boys don't just magically appear. He has to be somebody."

Chester linked his fingers across his stomach and leaned back in his chair, studying Rodney. He said, "Colonel, I do have more information, but it's confidential. Shall I ask Doctor McKay to leave us?"

"No," John said firmly.

"I thought not." Chester sat up and shuffled through the papers on his desk. "As you know, the SGC prefers to keep genetic records not just of its personnel but also of their immediate families when possible. In your case, your brother David Sheppard was approached last year, and he obligingly permitted buccal samples to be taken."

Chester looked at John, and something in his face made Rodney start to perspire. "John, that boy is not related to you. But is he related to your brother."

After a long pause, John said, "Which means that I'm not related to David."

"Yes. Yes, it does."

Rodney felt his pulse beating in his temple. He was almost afraid to look at John, but he forced himself to. John looked his usual laconic self, except Rodney saw a slight flush across his face, and that his jaw was clenched. After another, longer pause, John said, "That makes me the, the mystery, doesn't it."

Chester didn't respond. Instead, he said, "These results are absolutely confidential. No one else worked on the tests, and no one has seen the results. No one will." He pushed them into a stack and slid them back into the folder, then handed it to John. "I'm probably violating a dozen SGC regulations, but I will not violate my medical ethics. If this is to be a secret, it's your secret."

When John didn't accept the folder, Rodney snatched it up. "Thank you," he said, his voice thick in this throat. "Thank you, Chester."

Chester nodded at him, but didn't take his eyes from John. "I'm not going to ask you what you'll do," he said. "It's too soon for that. And I have some advice for you, but it's too soon for that, too. Today, you, Will, and Rodney should take some time off. Go fishing. Play with those little race cars. Go to the mainland. Perhaps be with your team. You know best. But I'm taking you off active duty for forty-eight hours. I'll be suitably mysterious with Richard."

He stood, and Rodney and John did, too. "Now go," he said. "I have other patients. You and the boy are both well and fit, even if you're not related." He herded them out the door and then out the infirmary. Rodney stared at John, wondering what he should say or do; he hated feeling so out of his depth. But he sucked with family things -- look at his relationship with Jeannie -- and he had no idea what to say or do.

John took a sudden deep breath. "So," he said to Rodney. His eyes were clear and untroubled. "Team day sounds good to me."

Rodney tapped his earpiece. "Ronon? Teyla? We've got the day off. Meet us at the, at the east pier."

John leaned over and plucked the earpiece from him. He said into its mic, "And bring the boys and Kanaan." There was a soft sound of Teyla replying, and then John handed the earpiece back. "Too early for beer?" he asked.

"Oh, _hell_ , no," Rodney said, and they turned as one toward John's quarters and the mini-fridge full of that disgusting American beer he kept stocked there. He slid the folder into the center drawer of John's little desk, knowing John saw but chose not to comment. He grabbed the two old rugs that Teyla had brought from her home on old Athos, patched and familiar from many movie nights and the times John had been laid up with injuries or illness.

Chester's prescription was a good one, Rodney thought. He'd swung by the lab to let Radek know what he was doing and where he'd be. "Go," Radek had said softly, his eyes kind. "You work too hard, Rodney. As does the colonel. I will call if we need you, but go. Go."

Rodney had nodded, bobbing his head because he couldn't find the words to thank Radek. Simpson, still working on a project with Miko, had smiled at him. He'd bumped into Carolyn Biro in the corridor outside the transporter he was taking to John's quarters; she'd winked at him, which alarmed him enough to stumble, and he'd heard her big laugh as the transporter's doors slid shut.

But out on the pier, in the sunshine, whitecaps popping in the light breeze, he thought the laughter had been kind, and Simpson's smile affectionate. Even now, years into the expedition and working with these people, Rodney sometimes forgot that he had friends. Too many years without, he thought, looking at his teammates.

Ronon and Kanaan had their heads together, and then he saw the flash of the square coins they used for the Satedan game of chance, Śad, which meant "to fall," he understood. He watched the coin flip between Ronon's fingers and then Kanaan slam it down -- astonishingly quick. Kanaan was Ronon's only competitor in the game, at least on Atlantis.

On his other side, Teyla sat with her feet swinging in the water, splashing the boys and making them laugh. Torren was stark naked; he hated clothes, and even as a baby preferred to be diaper-less. He was deep brown all over, darker than his mother, and his smile flashed as brilliantly as the coin in his uncle's fingers. Will had been coaxed out of his shoes and socks and, as Rodney watched, John helped him out of his shirt. A funny button-up-the-front one, not something Rodney could imagine John wearing even as an adult, let alone as a child. Will was paler than John and his little ribs were too prominent in Rodney's opinion.

"Can we swim?" he heard Will ask.

"You like to swim?" John asked him. "Sure. This part is a bit deep, though. We can --"

"I swim in the adult part of the pool," Will said proudly. "Daddy says I swim like a fish." Then his face changed and Rodney knew he was remembering his home.

"I swam like a fish, too," John said quietly. He stripped down to his blue-stripped boxers; years of military service had made him unselfconscious in a way that Rodney thought he wouldn't normally have been. Will was shyer but he too pulled off his jeans.

"Is it deep enough to dive?" he asked.

"Yeah, but do me a favor and don't," Rodney called. "Start off easy so I don't have a heart attack."

"You heard the man," John said, and he slid into the water as limber as an eel. He held his arms up to Will.

"I'm not a baby," Will said, though he obediently let John help him into the water. True to his word, he swam strongly.

Torren pointed and cried out, "Mamí, Mamí!"

"John," Teyla said, lifting up Torren and handing him down to John. Torren crowed with delight. This wasn't the first time Rodney had seen Torren in the water; he was as much a waterbaby as John and now Will, but it still unnerved him. Then Kanaan and Ronon stripped and leapt in.

"Come on," John wheedled Rodney, tugging his still-booted foot.

Teyla gave him a seductive glance and suddenly she was wearing only her top and some very skimpy pants. The word for them translated as "smalls," which they certainly were. "Come, dear Rodney," she whispered, and he was lost.

"Oh, hell," he said. He'd given up being embarrassed after all they'd been through on the various worlds they'd visited, though he did wish he'd taken better care of himself when he'd been Ronon's age. Then he cannonballed into the water splashing everyone thoroughly and making the boys and John laugh.

They swam and played the morning away; by lunch it was getting too hot to be in the sun, and everyone was hungry. To Rodney's surprise, when they moved into the shade of the large overhanging balcony, someone had set out a large container with sandwiches and fruit and even the sweet biscuits from PX9-311, plus thermoses of ice tea and a sweating pitcher of water.

"From Chester," John said, reading a note. He shoved it into the pocket of his trousers, which he folded neatly. Rodney started parcelling out the food; he was suddenly as ravenous as if he hadn't eaten in days.

"Wow," Will said, and sighed contentedly. Rodney realized it was the first time he'd seen Will eat heartily, and hoped that meant he was settling in. He was flushed from the sun and laughter, and had a smear of mustard on his chin. Rodney leaned over and wiped it off with his thumb. "Thank you," Will said, and smiled at him.

They lay back on the rugs Rodney had carried out, using their clothes as pillows. Teyla and Kanaan curled into each other, laughing quietly. Torren wanted to be with Will and was making his cranky face; even Rodney knew that meant he should nap. "He's like Dave," Will said, smiling at Torren, and pulled the little boy to him. Rodney looked at John, who was watching them closely, his face shadowed in some mysterious emotion. Always shadowed, Rodney thought.

He closed his eyes and finally let Chester's news sink in. John wasn't a Sheppard. Well, maybe his brother Dave wasn't a Sheppard, but Rodney knew it was John who was the changeling. He guessed the SGC had never bothered to check that John and Dave were related; why would they? Although he'd recommend they start checking.

What had happened that day when John had been visiting his aunt? What had Will said? He'd been playing with his dog, got tired, had a headache, laid down in the shade, and woke up here. So he'd slept for thirty-five years? Where had he been? What had woken him? How did he get from Virginia to Atlantis?

And what the fuck had his parents done? Rodney opened his eyes. What had happened that day?

Ronon snored, stirred, fell back asleep. Teyla and Kanaan were quiet, and from Teyla's quiet breaths, Rodney knew she was asleep. The two boys were deep in their dreams. Rodney could see Will's eyelids moving; he was in REM, and he hoped the boy was having happy dreams. Rodney twisted his head and saw that John, too, had his eyes closed, but he couldn't tell if he was asleep. It didn't matter. What mattered was that they were all together, resting, peaceful, safe. He remembered talking to John about taking a vacation, the whole team going off world. Lying here in the quiet afternoon, the soft splashing of the waves against the pier soothing him, he thought it was the best idea he'd ever had. He'd catch Teyla and convince her.

He closed his eyes again and remembered the beach they'd camped on, far enough away from the village that they could have been alone on the world. How John had stood on the beach, hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring out at the perfect breakers. How Teyla had slept in the sand, the worry gone from her face. And how Ronon had gamboled like a kid in the surf, tackling John and dragging him into the water.

He sighed. And then he slept.

He woke to the sound of children's voices. John sat next to him, his back against the wall. They were deep in shadow but the sunlight was brilliant bouncing off the pier and water. Teyla sat with Ronon, their heads together, laughing, and Kanaan lay stretched out, head propped on one hand, watching Torren and Will.

"We never had that beer," John said. He stared thoughtfully over the water. "I think it's getting warm out here. So let's take a ride."

"A ride?" Rodney asked, getting up.

"Yeah, a ride," John said. "Hey, let's clean up," he called to the others. "Rodney wants to go for a ride."

"I do?"

"Yeah, Rodney," Ronon said, grinning at him.

"Shut up," he said without heat. He felt sleepy and relaxed and thirsty, but he'd rarely seen John like this and didn't want to discourage it. Rubbing his eyes, he stretched and began collecting clothes and folding the rugs. "Here," he said to Will, "put your shirt on. You look a little sunburned and I don't want Chester yelling at me."

"What kind of ride?" Will asked him.

"That's a secret," John called. Rodney shrugged at Will.

They carried their impromptu picnic supplies to Teyla and Kanaan's quarters, and from there, John led them to the jumper bay. He radioed Lorne, telling him he was taking out a jumper. Rodney thought Lorne sounded pleased at the news, and for the first time he wondered just how his team was perceived by others. Was Lorne pleased to be rid of them for a few hours? Or pleased because they were relaxing?

He was in the jumper before he realized it, sitting in his usual spot next to John. Suddenly Will was in his lap, zoomed there by Ronon. "Let him see better," Ronon said gruffly. Torren began to fuss, stretching his arms toward Will.

"Oh, hell," Rodney said. "Give him here. I've got another knee." Kanaan set Torren down in Rodney's lap. At least Will was well behaved, but Torren squirmed excitedly, so Will put his arms around him, too.

"Everybody in?" John called as the jumper hummed to life. Ronon closed the hatch and stood behind John's seat; Teyla and Kanaan stood behind Rodney. Though they'd gone up with John hundreds of times before, Rodney felt Will and Torren's excitement and John's enthusiasm made this different. He tilted his head back and looked up at Teyla; she was smiling widely. "Hang on," John said, unnecessarily, as the jumper slowly lifted up.

"Wow," Will breathed. He leaned forward trying to see everything. They rose into the gateroom, and continued up. Chuck at his console waved at them, and Will waved back. They rose through the retracted ceiling, always a magic moment. Then they were outside rising higher, and the city came into view.

Rodney loved this city. He sat forward to, hanging on to the boys, trying not to squash Torren who was wiggling in excitement. John kept the jumper rising straight up, parallel to the main tower, until Ronon said, "Come _on_ , Sheppard."

John laughed, and the jumper took on speed. He began to glide through the city, winding around the spires in a crazy cat's cradle. He slowed nearly to a stop so they could peer in through the mess hall's long windows, then shot up to hover over the tallest spire and sink back down to the pier where they'd spent the morning. Will kept muttering "wow" under his breath. Rodney glanced at John; he had a mischievous smile when he met Rodney's eye.

From pier level they began to rise again, this time spiraling around the center spire, velocity increasing steadily. In an Earth vehicle, they would have felt increasing gravity but with the inertial dampeners, the only sensation was untrammeled joy, and even Rodney laughed at John's maneuvers as they rose in joyful circles. Torren squealed his delight, and Will was nearly breathless with laughter. Rodney saw Ronon rest his hands on John's shoulders, leaning past him to peer out the windshield at the flashing view as John flew them in a wild helix.

Then he lifted the nose of the jumper and they looked up into the sky, at first a deep blue, then indigo, and then the stars revealed themselves and within minutes they were swimming in deep space. Will's mouth was a perfect O of wonder, and even Torren sighed. He was getting sleepy from the excitement, Rodney saw, and tucked him back, letting his head rest against his chest. But Will leaned farther forward.

The silence was profound. Behind him, Rodney felt the warmth of Teyla and Kanaan. Torren was asleep now, breathing regularly into his chest, warm and moist. Ronon squeezed John's shoulders, shaking them gently, and smiled at the universe outside. And John smiled, too, at Rodney and at Will.

He tilted the jumper's nose back toward their world, now small and blue. The one landmass was on the other side of the planet so all they could see was the pure blue of the ocean. Will sniffled and rubbed his eyes, turning away from view out the windshield.

"Oh, hey," Rodney said, feeling helpless and hating it. "Will, hey."

"My mom and dad," he said. He looked at John. "They're dead."

"Take over, Rodney," John said, rising from the pilot's seat. He steered Will to the aft of the jumper. Rodney handed Torren to Teyla and moved to the pilot's seat.

"Where should I go?" he whispered to Ronon.

"Just keep it steady," Ronon said, sitting on the passenger's side. "Give them some time."

He could hear John's voice but not the words, though his soft murmur sounded comforting to Rodney. He tried to imagine waking up in thirty-five years, to learn that your parents were dead, your little brother grown up, everything you had lost in the past. He couldn't.

Teyla began a discussion of an upcoming mission to P7R-356, a world she knew as _Eilyein_ , and one with which she and Kanaan were familiar. "They have few mineral deposits," Kanaan said. "Especially not enough salt."

"Anything we'd want?" Rodney asked. "Because salt we got."

"They are talented farmers," Teyla said. "Though not farmer as I think of it. They farm their forests, moving from place to place at set times, allowing the soil to recuperate. Their calendars are quite elaborate, and the celebrations when they move are famous."

"And fun," Kanaan added.

"I like that," Ronon said. "Food and fun. Good combination."

"And all for salt?" Rodney asked. Before Teyla could respond, John and Will returned.

"Hey," Ronon said and grabbed Will, making him giggle. "You okay?"

"He will be," John said, resting his hand on Will's head. He nudged Rodney out of the pilot's seat. Ronon set Will down who went to stand next to John, leaning against him.

"Can I ask you what you think happened?" Rodney said hesitantly. He felt the others still.

Will sniffed, and John put one arm around him. "I think I fell sleep and woke up here," Will said. He looked at Rodney. "I know you're the smartest person in the world, but I don't think I can go back. I think I'm here now." He rested his head on John's shoulder.

Rodney looked at the others. Teyla had tears in her eyes, and Kanaan clutched Torren more closely to him. No one said anything as John took them down, back into the atmosphere and finally back to Atlantis. At first it appeared no larger than the whitecaps that had pearled the surface of the ocean while they played on the pier, but soon it was as large as Manhattan, though infinitely more beautiful to Rodney's eyes.

The euphoria he'd felt earlier had gone. Rodney felt drained and exhausted, and maybe a little sunburnt. "Is my nose burnt?" he asked Ronon, who rolled his eyes as they emerged from the jumper. Lorne was in the jumper bay.

"How was your first flight?" he asked Will.

"Wow," Will said again. "So cool."

"Yeah, we think so, too."

John said, "Lorne, could you --" he gestured at Will

"You hungry?" Lorne asked Will. "Wanna grab a snack?"

"Okay," he said neutrally. Lorne led him away.

"Thank you, John," Teyla said. "This was a most enjoyable day. I do think we should schedule more such outings."

"Yeah," Ronon said. Rodney reminded himself to meet with them to present his plan that they return to PX9-276 for a real vacation.

"I'm gonna . . . " John said, and strode off. After a moment, the rest of them followed, splintering off: Teyla and Kanaan to their quarters to put Torren down for a nap; Ronon to flirt with the gate technician he liked, and Rodney back to his lab to see what had happened in his absence.

By the time he tumbled out of his lab it was too late for most of Atlantis. He'd woken up from his calculations to find the labs empty. The corridor lights had dimmed, and he was starving. He hurried to the mess hall; even stale sandwiches would be good now. The new chemical engineers were there, talking excitedly; Rodney approved of their work ethic. On the same long table as the coffee and hot water urns were two Athosian baskets filled with cling-wrapped sandwiches. He sorted through them methodically, poured himself a mug of ginger tea, and turned to find a table. To his surprise, he saw John and Woolsey sitting together. They looked somber as they talked.

He knew he should give John his privacy, but when had knowing what he should do ever stopped Rodney? He wound through the maze of tables to them and stood awkwardly for a moment.

"Sit down, McKay," John said,.

"Um," Rodney said, and sat, his chair squeaking when he scooted it near the table. He unwrapped a sandwich and took a big bite. "So what're you doing?" he asked through it.

Woolsey grimaced and looked at John. "It's late, Colonel," he said, rising. "I will consider what you've said. We can discuss this later."

John nodded, and stole the other half of Rodney's sandwich. When Woolsey disappeared into the corridor outside the mess half, John said, "I told Woolsey what Chester found. That Will and I aren't related." He sighed. "That Dave and I aren't brothers."

"Don't be ridiculous," Rodney snapped. "You might not be related, but you're certainly brothers."

John smiled a little bit, and then they ate in silence. Rodney walked with John to Linda Simpson's quarters where, to Rodney's surprise, they picked up Will; literally, for he had fallen asleep. "He can stay," Linda whispered, but John carried him in his arms and Will slept all the way, stirring only when they tucked him into his cot. Rodney realized he was stroking Will's hair, kneeling on John's hard floor, while John straightened the sheet and blanket over Will.

Rodney hadn't asked John why he'd told Woolsey anything. Chester had said that medical ethics trumped military, which was why Rodney liked Chester despite his lack of any kind of bedside manner.

Well, John always did what he thought best, not what he should or what other people expected of him. That was one reason Rodney liked John. He was the same way. It was just that John's decisions so often seemed self-destructive to Rodney. He hoped this decision wouldn't be, but it was too early to know.

Will sighed and made a little noise. John looked sharply at him, but he was deeply asleep. "Go to sleep, John," Rodney said quietly, and let his hand rest of John's shoulder for a moment.

Will's fourth day in the city set the pattern for the days that followed: he slept in John's quarters and had breakfast with him and the team. Rodney discovered that Lorne wasn't the only person who missed having kids around. Noëlle Gageut from Anthropology had been recruited by Miko and Linda to spend some time with Will speaking French. Then he met with Miko who was supposed to be introducing him to differential and integral calculus, but Will preferred to learn Japanese, so they did both. Rodney approved of Will's enthusiasm, so he also met with him, insisting they focus on math, and that was how he knew that Will and John weren't related; Will sucked at math. "Bad teaching," he growled at Will. "Really, your teachers must have been idiots."

"Dad said I was," Will admitted in a near whisper.

Rodney felt a red rage boil up in him at Patrick William Sheppard, but he clamped his mouth shut and breathed deeply through his nose until he could trust himself. "Well, dads don't know everything," he finally said. "You'd be surprised to learn what my dad thought about me."

Finally came a day that Rodney had been bracing himself for. John asked him to come to Woolsey's office. "Something about Will," he'd said, not meeting Rodney's eyes. Rodney instantly locked his computer, glanced around the lab to find everyone watching them somberly.

Woolsey stood when they entered, always the gentleman, Rodney thought, and then saw a battered cardboard banker's box on Woolsey's desk. Before they'd finished pulling their chairs closer, Woolsey said, "I won't keep you. Doctor McKay, you're here because the colonel requested your presence, but this is information for the colonel." He opened the box, without any flourish, and extracted a yellowed newspaper. "Your brother found this box among your father's possessions. He explained that he only glanced through it and then set it aside to give to you someday. I gather he didn't have the opportunity when you last saw him." He cleared his throat. "I took it upon myself to go through the box carefully, and do some further research. Discreetly, I assure you, and I've returned everything as precisely as possible."

"Richard," John said, his voice deep.

"Yes, yes. The point. The point is, well. Here." He pushed the newspaper to them.

John didn't pick it up, but he and Rodney hunched over it. Rodney saw it was an inside page of an old copy of the _Richmond Times-Dispatch_. Dated August 15, 1977. There was an article about the Son of Sam, and something about Uruguay, but in the lower right-hand corner was a small blurb:

_Missing Child  
_

Ten-year-old John Sheppard wandered from the grounds of The Homestead in Hot Springs this morning. His dog was found sitting patiently on young John's jacket. The Bath County Sheriff's Office is conducting a search. Parents Patrick and Clarice and John's younger brother David wait with John's dog Patch.

When Rodney looked up, Woolsey held out another section of newspaper. Again, it was an inner page, a tiny article below the fold, and again referred to the missing child. The date was September 30, and the Virginia State Police had been called in.

John said, "How can I not remember this? September 30 -- school would have started. I should remember missing that much school."

"According to what I found, you were gone for nearly three months."

"Okay, that's just not possible."

"Speaking of not possible, let me show you this." From his desktop, Woolsey picked up a small photograph. "From your first grade," he said, and handed it to John.

Rodney studied it. The picture was of Will.

"A Christmas portrait from the prior year," Woolsey said, and handed them a larger photograph set into an old fashioned Christmas card with a red cardinal at one corner and an oversized candy cane at the other. The two Sheppard boys looked remarkably alike: pale eyes, light brown hair, and smiles that matched their father's.

"Your mom's hot," Rodney said, and closed his eyes in embarrassment.

John huffed. "Yeah. My friends thought so, too." He tossed the card back onto Woolsey's desk. "So I'm not me. Do you know who I am?"

Woolsey patted the box. "I'll let you go through this yourself, but here's what I know. You disappeared that day in September. In early December, the local paper reported that you'd been found -- the article said you'd been taken by a childless couple who claimed they found you wandering in the woods. They were very poor. Their home was a kind of box on wheels pulled by a mule. There's a sketch in here," he tapped the box. "The man was a tinker and they traveled around to his customers. His wife did a little of everything -- when they stopped somewhere for him to sharpen knives and whatnot, she would take in mending, clean houses, help pregnant women. There isn't much about them."

"So what are you saying?" Rodney asked. "That John was their child?"

Woolsey shrugged. "They said not. I couldn't find any pictures or descriptions of them, so I don't know if there was the family resemblance that this exhibits," he nudged the Christmas card. "The one reporter who interviewed them was, ah, wasn't particularly fair and balanced, shall we say, but reading between the lines, it doesn't sound as though they tried to keep you from returning to your family."

"Except now we know it wasn't my family." John sounded bitter.

"No. No, apparently not," Woolsey agreed uncomfortably.

"This doesn't explain anything," Rodney said. He felt a rush of anger. "So the first John, our Will, disappears. Three months later, a new John appears and is accepted as the missing Sheppard. And that's it? No one questions his changed appearance? And if Will is that John, the John who fell asleep with his dog, then where's he been since 1977?"

The three men said nothing; what could they say? Rodney wanted to punch somebody, but who? Both Patrick and Clarice were long gone, Dave had been too young to know what was going on, and John had no memory.

"Well, this sucks," John finally said.

Woolsey smiled weakly. "It really, really does." He hesitated and then said, "Do you want to contact your brother?"

"You mean Will's brother?" John snapped, but he rubbed his forehead as if it ached. "I don't -- not right away. I'd like to think about this, go through that box. And I need to talk to Will."

"He's just a little boy," Woolsey said, sitting up straighter. "Surely there's no need to, to --"

"He's a Sheppard," John said, and his smile was wry. "He'll need to know. If I tell him now, he can grow into it."

"Tell the others first," Rodney said in a rush. "I know I'm not good with families, but afterwards, when Will -- tell the others first, so they can help."

John nodded, and stood. "Listen, Rodney, would you take this stuff to my quarters? I'm gonna, I'm just --"

"Yeah, sure, it's not too heavy, or I'll get Ronon, but you just --"

They both stood, staring at each other, Rodney nearly light-headed, from standing up too quickly, he thought, and then John left. Rodney sighed and turned back to Woolsey.

"I can't imagine what he's thinking," Woolsey said.

"Welcome to the club," Rodney said sourly. "Rakish and inscrutable: that's our colonel." Woolsey gathered up the documents from his desk and set them back into the box, then settled the top on it.

"Thank you, Doctor McKay," he said at last. "You're a good friend to the colonel. I'm sure he appreciates it, and I certainly do. He isn't an easy man to know."

Rodney nodded, suddenly touched by Woolsey's words. The box wasn't too heavy, he thought, and carried it to John's rooms. He was tempted to go through it himself, even wondered if John had assumed he would and that was why he'd asked him to return it, but he managed to do no more than study the photographs that lay on the very top of all the documentation Woolsey had collected.

There wasn't a sign of the John Sheppard he knew in them.

He left, starting toward the big labs but then veering off. He needed some fresh air first, and a look at a distant horizon that wasn't Virginia, wasn't North America, wasn't Earth. Certain that John had gone to his favorite place on the east pier, Rodney headed north, to the much smaller and more isolated arm of Atlantis. He found a much greater sense of movement here. On this world, they had set Atlantis down in the midst of what on Earth was called the Gulf Stream: a broad current that circled the planet's single ocean, following the continental shelf. Like Earth's Gulf Stream, this current carried warm water to the pole. They could see it from space and the oceanographers on Atlantis were delighted by its existence and the opportunity to study it. Even Rodney had been interested in the fluid dynamics.

Right now, though, he was more interested in the rush of ocean-scented air flowing into his face, and the soft sound of the water slopping against the low steps of this pier. Atlantis floated in the warm water at a rate of almost five kilometers a day, quite extraordinarily fast, but not fast enough for him to sense the motion. Nor could land be seen from Atlantis, so there was no way to measure their speed. Just the air and the water and the city. He remembered that, from the edge of the atmosphere, Atlantis was no bigger than the foamy crest of a whitecap; oddly, Rodney often found comfort in that.

He stood on the pier for a long time, just breathing, trying to do one of the meditations that Teyla had taught him. When he finally turned to go to the lab, John was waiting for him.

"Uh," Rodney said. John's face was blank; as usual, Rodney didn't know how to read him. He approached John warily. While he watched, John looked away, out toward the invisible pole, and took a deep breath. Then he focused on Rodney and, to Rodney's astonishment, reached out a hand. For a few seconds Rodney just stared, but then he cautiously took John's hand. He was trembling very slightly. "John," Rodney whispered, and stepped closer. Rodney found he was breathing rapidly, almost hyperventilating. "Oh, shit, John," he said. Taking a deep slow breath, trying to calm himself, he hesitantly touched John's shoulder with his free hand, and then, risking everything, pulled John into a hug. More surprising than physics, John hugged him back and suddenly Rodney found himself gripped as tightly as in one of Ronon's surprise hugs, and he embraced John equally as firmly. "Hey, hey," he said into John's neck, and rested his face against John's shoulder. For being so skinny, he was comfortable as hell, and comforting, too.

John took a deep breath, straightened, and stood up. He still didn't speak, nor did he seem likely to, so Rodney said, "Still nothing, and frankly, we're running out of avenues to check. You do keep your bathroom floor freakishly clean, though I doubt that's why Will appeared there. I have an idea but I need to talk to Sam, is that okay? If Woolsey knows, the SGC knows, right? I guess I should ask Woolsey, but do you mind if I tell Sam?"

John held up a hand. "It's fine. Yes, the SGC knows, and yes, you can tell Sam." He looked better, Rodney thought; more color in his face. "You have an idea? About where Will came from?"

"Ah, well, I'd rather not speculate," Rodney said quickly. "Just, let me do a bit more research."

John nodded as he looked away from Rodney and out to sea. The wind was picking up as it often did in the afternoons in the spring and summer. His hair was crazier than ever in the humid salt air. Rodney ran a self-conscious hand over his own hair. "Listen," John said abruptly. "Would you, um, I have to tell Will what we know --"

"Which isn't much," Rodney interjected.

"What we know. So I thought it might be good if you were there. To handle any science-y questions."

"Science-y," Rodney scoffed, thinking rapidly. "He's only a kid, John. How much can he understand?"

"He understands that something's wrong," John snapped. "He's afraid, Rodney. And God help him, we're all he's got."

Rodney managed to refrain from snapping back, though he huffed a bit. At last he said, "I'm shitty with kids; you know that. Even Radek's better than I am. But yes, I'll help. What about Teyla? The others?"

"That's where I was going. But." John shrugged.

"Then let's go. Get this over with."

Without further discussion, John led the way. Instead of radioing, he went to Teyla and Kanaan's quarters. They were there, unpacking from their visit with the Athosians. "Torren?" John asked, looking around.

"Napping, thank the ancestors," Kanaan said. "I cannot imagine where he gets his energy." He smiled at Teyla, who batted playfully at his shoulder. He caught her hand and kissed her wrist.

"What can we do?" Teyla asked. Rodney thought she knew them well to know to ask that.

"Uh, I, well, Chester ran some tests on me and Will, did some research. He found out that. Well, you know I have a younger brother, Dave. Ronon met him." Teyla nodded, frowning. She gestured and they seated themselves. John scratched his head, made a face, and said. "Chester found out that I'm not really a Sheppard. That Will is."

After an awkward pause, Kanaan said, "I'm sorry, but I do not understand."

"Oh for god's sake," Rodney said, looking at John, "let me tell them. It turns out that John and Dave aren't related. Will and Dave are the brothers."

Teyla said, "John, I am so sorry."

"It's okay," John said, in a voice that clearly indicated it was not okay.

"Did you ever suspect?" Kanaan said. Rodney thought that was a remarkably astute question and wished he'd asked it.

"No," John said slowly. "Not seriously. But I did wonder why I was so different. I looked different, and I felt different. I wanted different things from them. I guess I know why now."

"Not that different," Rodney said. "You like horses and going fast, and Ronon said Dave did, too."

"Well, yeah. But what's weird," John said to Teyla and Kanaan, "is that my parents must have known. I disappeared for nearly three months -- two _eshu_ ," he added to Kanaan. "Right at the time that Will says he fell asleep, that's why I disappeared. I mean, when he disappeared. And three months later, I turn up. But my parents just accepted me. I mean, Will's parents just accepted me."

"I understand," Teyla said thoughtfully.

"You do?" Rodney asked.

"Yes. If Torren were to disappear, and then re-appear after two _eshu_ , I would be very grateful. So grateful that I might not ask myself questions."

"I would," Rodney said firmly.

"Perhaps they thought their child was dead," Kanaan said, and he looked toward Torren's crib. "When he was returned, joy overwhelmed them."

Rodney tried to imagine Torren disappearing for three months. How would he feel? What would Teyla and Kanaan do? He thought he would probably go mad. Had Patrick and Clarice? Maybe Kanaan knew something; he was a parent. Maybe any little boy was better than no boy, than a permanently lost boy.

They sat in long silence, listening to Torren's soft sleeping noises. Rodney, chronically underslept, yawned. At last, John said, "I need to tell Will. Miko said to tell him the truth." He stopped abruptly.

"Do you wish us to be with you?" Teyla asked.

John stared at the floor in front of him. Rodney tried to picture him telling Will, and decided that he, at least, should be there; he had more words than John. Teyla would be good now that she was all maternal. And Ronon should be there because he was team. He tapped his radio and said, "Ronon?" When Ronon responded, Rodney looked at Teyla and said, "We're having a team meeting, sort of, and you should be here. With Teyla and Kanaan."

"On it," Ronon said.

"I was going to say that I should do it alone," John protested.

"You can't even tell us how you feel," Rodney said. "How're you supposed to explain something like this? You need all of us."

"Rodney is right," Kanaan said, which surprised Rodney; he wasn't sure Kanaan liked him much. "I have seen this for myself." They all looked at Kanaan. "You should take him to the pier where we had our picnic, all four of you. Tell him there. It will remind him of a good time. Then, when you are calm, bring him here to be with Torren."

Before Rodney could say anything, Ronon arrived, and with him Will. "I went running with Ronon," he announced, rushing to John. He leaned against John's knees, beaming, his face flushed. Ronon looked very pleased.

"Could he keep up with you?" John asked Will, who grinned even harder. "How about you go wash your face and comb your hair, then come right back."

"Okay," Will said cheerfully. He and Ronon high-fived as Will left. Rodney noted the smile crinkles around John's eyes as he watched the boy leave.

"He's getting stronger," Ronon said, and sat on the floor, covered by one of Teyla's innumerable rugs. Rodney teased her that the Athosians must have some long boring nights to have woven so many. He knew that they traded them for goods across the galaxy, and that Athosian loomwork was highly valued. He had two rugs in his own quarters. Then he started paying attention again, irritated at himself. He was, as he'd told John, shitty at family stuff. He needed to be good for this.

"He already figured most of it out," Ronon was saying. "He was telling me during the run."

"Then we must tell him," Teyla said firmly. "And assure him he has a home here."

"Shit," John said. "Woolsey and Chester want to send him to Earth."

Teyla, Kanaan, and Ronon all looked shocked, Rodney thought. "I know," he said. "It's ridiculous. No, it's worse than ridiculous. If you knew the SGC the way I do --"

"We do," Ronon said grimly. "They'll say he's an _alien_ , and study him. Teal'c told me stuff."

Rodney supposed that he and John should jump in to defend Earth and the SGC, but neither did, and neither would have been believed if they had. They all knew what the SGC was capable of. Rodney knew again the cognitive dissonance of feeling more Atlantian, more Pegasian, than Terran. He was still, he told himself, Canadian, though; in fact, Atlantis was sort of Canadian. He put that thought aside for later.

Will returned, his light brown hair darker with the water he'd combed it with, face shining. Torren began to stir so he went to Torren's crib and leaned over it. "Hey, buddy," he murmured. Rodney looked at John.

Kanaan rose and went to Will and Torren. Resting a hand on Will's shoulder, he said, "John and the others need to talk to you. Come back afterwards. Torren will be up by then and I will need your help."

Will glanced over his shoulder at John, his pale eyes worried. They all stood. "Yeah," John said, almost sheepishly. "Let's take a walk, give Torren and Kanaan some alone time." Will obediently came to John, and took his hand.

The pier seemed a very long way away. Rodney talked out of nervousness, he knew, and discovered he was telling Will how John had flown Atlantis to this planet, and then back from Earth, and that they liked it here, and about the enormous current they floated along, until they finally reached their picnic spot. He stopped and sighed.

The five of them stood along the very edge of the pier, where John and Rodney came regularly to share a beer and bullshit. Ronon sat first, then the others, John with his arm around Will's shoulders.

"I know," Will said before any of them could speak. "I figured it out. And you told me some of it already. But I know my parents are dead," he gulped a little. "And my little brother Dave is big. Adult."

"Yeah," John said softly. "Actually, you're an uncle. He has two girls about your age."

"That's weird," Rodney said. Ronon punched his shoulder.

"What's going to happen to me?" Will asked.

After a silence, Teyla asked, "What would you like?"

Will frowned. "Mister Woolsey asked me that."

"Woolsey's been talking to you?" John asked, his voice low.

"He came by Doctor Gageut's office. He speaks French, too."

"What'd you tell him?" Ronon asked.

Will shrugged and said, "Nothing." He looked up at John. "What do you want?"

"Oh my god, we'll be here all night," Rodney said. He explained to Will, "He prefers to play martyr; he thinks it's his role on Atlantis."

Will looked puzzled; John looked irritated. "I can speak for myself, McKay," he said.

"Can you, John?" Teyla asked. "Will you?"

"I know what he wants," Ronon said, stretching his legs. "Hurry up. My ass is getting cold."

John said, "I want whatever you want, Will. If you want to go back to Earth, whatever, just say so."

"John," Rodney and Teyla said in unison.

"But what I want," he continued, "what I'd like is for you to stay here. With us. But only if you want."

Will started to cry. Rodney stifled his groan. Will turned his face into John's black tee shirt, his shoulders shaking. Teyla scooted nearer and put her hand on Will's back, and John curled over him. Rodney sighed and looked at Ronon, but he was watching Will.

They waited for him, not speaking, and slowly he quieted. He was almost lying in John's lap, and Rodney thought again how young he was but how mature and articulate. He wondered if Will had been changed in the decades he'd been away wherever that was, or if he'd always been like this. Rodney had started speaking quite young and had never stopped. There was too much to see and do and discuss. But John was the quiet one, the observer, a scientist in his own way. Will was someone else.

And there it was: Will was someone else. He looked like the Sheppards; maybe he acted like them, too. Rodney didn't know -- he'd never met Dave Sheppard. Despite his long estrangement from Jeannie, they were more alike than different. If Will and Dave had been that alike, then the new kid must have been quite a shock to the Sheppard family.

Yet they'd never said anything, as far as Rodney could tell from the stuff that Woolsey had shipped from Earth. Rodney resolved to talk to Sam as soon as he could.

Will lifted his head and wiped his eyes. Teyla handed him a handkerchief and he snuffled into it. He yawned, reminding Rodney of Torren after one of his crying spells. The five of them sat listening to the ocean's rise and fall, though Atlantis was steady beneath them. The day was fine, Rodney thought. Summer was definitely coming but the breeze was still cool. He yawned, too.

At last, John said very quietly, "Will? Do you know what you'd like?"

"To stay here," he said. He sighed. "It's better here."

"Excellent decision," Rodney said, but John said, "You can change your mind any time."

"I won't," Will said. "Can we go see Torren and Kanaan now?"

And that was that, Rodney thought, letting Ronon pull him to his feet. A new citizen of Atlantis. He was sure they'd have to argue with Woolsey, and maybe with Chester, and he didn't know what they'd do if the SGC actually ordered them to send Will to them. "Ah," he said, once they were crammed into the transporter, "I need to get to my lab for something. See you at dinner?"

Ronon gave him a suspicious look, but Will said, "See you, Rodney," and sounded nearly cheerful. He got off on the floor with the big labs while they continued to to the level where many people lived. He wondered what research they were doing could be used to justify an intergalactic call to Sam, snapping his fingers instantly as he realized what to do.

Arranging communication between two galaxies took a while even with the technology now at their disposal, but with Chuck's assistance, within a few days Rodney was looking at Sam's face on his monitor. He moved to his quarters for privacy for the call and sat at his desk, eating a late lunch of apples and _tinjih_ chips. Her image on his laptop grinned and said, "McKay!" She was in her little lab at the SGC. "Any exciting new discoveries to share?"

"Ah, well, yes, but that's not why I'm calling and yes, I know that's what I said earlier but forget it. Listen, I need to know everything you have about Jackson's return -- descension? Is that what you call it? When you found him on that planet."

She frowned at him. "Oh-kay," she said slowly, humoring him. He hated when she did that. "There's not a lot --"

"Okay, I'll be specific. The tests done on Jackson afterwards, can I have the results? Radiation, bloodwork, EEG, EKG, anything you've got."

"Rodney, those are confidential medical records. Even if I had them, why would I share them with you?

"Because, as you well know, we might have a descended, uh, person here. I need a baseline, and that's Jackson. He's the only one we know of."

Sam studied him. The slight timelag in voice communication was annoying, Rodney thought, but it did give him time to think. "We're scientists," he began again before she could respond. "Yes, in some regards those records are confidential. But not to us, Sam. When confronted with phenomena, we need data to report and compare."

She looked skeptical, but nodded. "I see your point. Let me talk to Daniel."

"Oh, hell. How long with _that_ take?"

"Daniel?" she called, and waved. "McKay wants to talk to you."

"I do not!" he shouted at her, but then Daniel's face appeared. "Um. Hey, Dan."

"Rod."

"So. Any chance you've heard about our visitor?"

"He's the talk of the SGC," Daniel said. He frowned a bit, and Rodney wondered what he'd heard.

"What're they saying?" he asked quietly.

Daniel glanced around, leaned forward, and said, "Same as they did when I returned. Alien, a danger, a threat."

"Shit."

"What do you need?"

"Everything. How did they know you were descended? Was there residual radiation? Had your biometrics changed in any way?"

He shook his head. "I can already tell you the answer: nothing was found. My before and after matched up. Whether there had been residual radiation was impossible to tell -- remember, SG1 didn't find me until months after I'd been returned."

"Shit."

"What are you saying, Rodney? That you believe this boy was an ascended being?"

"Not exactly," he mumbled.

After a staticky pause, Daniel said, "I'll send you my medical records from that time. I don't think they'll help, but they're all I have."

"Thank you, Daniel."

"You need to talk to Sam?"

"Not unless she's decided she wants my babies after all."

"Not in this lifetime, McKay!" he heard her shout. Daniel grinned at him, and the connection broke.

Well, shit, Rodney thought. So much for that idea. He sat at his desk for a while longer, making notes to ask the new chemical engineers working on fuel cell technology, and to remind himself to try some different variables in a simulation he was working on. He decided to finalize the remaining performance evaluations before Woolsey called him in for another meeting. He paused, thinking about Woolsey. He seemed to be a company man, but Rodney had hope, probably unwarranted, that he'd back them on Will. On helping Will. He shook his head and went back to work. He was still on the first eval when Chester appeared at Rodney's quarters.

"Hey," Rodney said. He sat at his desk again, and then wished that Chester weren't so tall; he was intimidating, especially when Rodney was seated.

"Don't eat all those _tinjih_ chips," Chester told him. "Your cholesterol is high enough."

Rodney, who adored _tinjih_ chips, glared at him, but obediently closed the _tinjih_ chip container and pushed it away. He watched Chester sit, but before he could speak, Rodney asked, "Are you going to recommend that we send the boy to Earth?"

Chester studied him in his infuriating way. Rodney missed Carson. He could be a terrible old woman, but he was a true friend. Chester was his doctor, a fellow scientist, but he hadn't been here in the beginning, when it had been just them, a lonely crew of a few hundred. Nor could Rodney bully him the way he could Carson. He heaved a sigh. "Well?" he asked.

Chester said, "I'm not sure how much weight any recommendation from me would carry. But no, if the colonel decides Will would do better here in Atlantis, then no. I will not recommend that the boy be sent to Earth."

"I notice you didn't say _back_ to Earth," Rodney said. Chester shrugged.

"So why'd you stop by?"

"To ask what you're going to do with Will. And whether I can help."

"Support John's decision about him, whatever it is. Take care of him."

Chester nodded absently. "I thought you'd say that." He stood. "I'll do what I can, Rodney. But you probably have a fight ahead of you."

"When do we not?" he asked. Chester made a face, and then left. Rodney popped open the _tinjih_ chip container.

Late that night, after Will was in bed and sleeping soundly, John put his hand to his back and stretched, then motioned to Rodney to follow him. They stepped onto his balcony where the cool night wind made him shiver. "Beautiful night," John said softly.

"This is a great place to be a kid," Rodney said suddenly. All those adults: smart, accomplished, doing what they wanted. He remembered his parents fighting a lot when he thought about his childhood. He didn't even know what about, though sometimes it was about him. He'd been a real pain in the ass as a kid, or so he assumed. _Too smart for his own good_ , his dad had told him more than once. He almost wished he could have a do-over, only here.

He wondered if that's what John was feeling -- that this was his do-over, his chance to get it right. That would be very cool.

"Tomorrow I face Woolsey," John said.

"And by 'I,' you mean you and I will," Rodney clarified.

"You mind?"

"Hell, no. It'll take his mind off the performance evaluations."

John laughed, and Rodney left him then, standing on the balcony, a sleeping child in his care. Atlantis was a funny place, he thought when he finally went to bed much later. A funny place where funny things happened and you ended up doing things you never dreamt you could. Like help raise the child who should have grown up to be the man who was his best friend, but then his thoughts got confused, and he fell asleep.

Their talk with Woolsey never happened, though, because before Rodney had finished breakfast, Radek was calling him over the radio, and two other people were trying to talk to him simultaneously making him shout as he trotted toward the transporter. "Shut up, shut up, is it an emergency? What protocols are in place?"

"No, not like that," Radek said, and then he shouted, "Shut up! Oh, these new people," he muttered. "Just get here, Rodney."

The lab was mostly empty at this time; Rodney didn't insist anyone keep to set hours. He didn't believe it was productive and besides, he never had. Some worked three days solid and then collapsed; some worked nights; most worked from mid-morning till late evening. Only a few came in early and left early; Radek was one. The new chemical engineers, whom Rodney had begun calling Laurel and Hardy in his head but whose real names he knew were Dessaline Laurent and Funmilayo Hrdy, had worked all night digging deeper into the database. When Radek had arrived, they'd called him over, and he'd called Andy Corrigan, the anthropologist who'd been here from the earliest days and who read Ancient more fluently than anyone else. Andy had confirmed what Laurent and Hrdy thought they'd found, and now all four were waiting expectantly for Rodney to understand.

His face burned with excitement. He put his hand across his forehead as if to keep his brain from exploding. For once in his life he couldn't think of anything to say. Radek had tears in his eyes and kept wiping them and his glasses. Andy was stalking about the lab, every now and then slapping a counter top. "I can't believe we didn't look there!" he shouted. Laurent and Hrdy kept repeating what they'd been doing when they'd found the detour.

"Okay, okay!" Rodney finally said. "Andy, shut up; it isn't that obvious. Radek, for heaven's sake get a handkerchief; your glasses look like someone walked on them. Here's what we're going to do: Call Kusanagi and Simpson; they're most familiar with the energy systems used by the Ancients, and have Andy walk them through his translation. Then we'll start brainstorming." He took a huge breath. "Also, you two, go to the mess hall and arrange for a meal to be brought here. If they give you any trouble, call me." They ran off, talking over each other. "Andy, uh --"

"Sure, Rodney," he said. "I'll just . . ." He gestured meaninglessly and followed Laurent and Hrdy out of the lab. Now it was just Radek and Rodney.

They looked at each other and then Rodney yelled. Radek hugged him and they clumsily danced in the aisles. "Shit, Radek, shit, this is, this is --"

"I know, Rodney, this I know, it is our dream, we can do _anything_ , anything in the universe --"

"Oh my god, if this works --"

"Of course it will work; why would it not work?"

"If this works, we really will be able to do anything: defeat the Wraith, have instant communication with Earth, visit other galaxies . . ." He trailed off, and thought about Earth.

"What will we do?" Radek asked, and Rodney saw that his euphoria had drained away, too.

"I refuse to hope that we're wrong," Rodney said.

"But that much power."

"Yes, Radek, I'm aware. I've worked with the US military for most of my life; I know what they'd do."

"John?"

"He's different. He's one of us."

Radek remained silent and, while Rodney ran over the possibilities before them, he also wondered if Radek agreed. Or not; he knew he was right. John was loyal, but his loyalty had to be earned. The Air Force had, in Rodney's opinion, screwed him over too often to deserve that loyalty. Atlantis loved John. Atlantis was his home. His inheritance.

Even as he planned with Radek what to do next, he sudden realized something about John and Will. Atlantis loved John, he thought again. Rodney didn't really believe in a sentient Atlantis, though he thought others did; he'd heard enough people refer to the city as _she_. Even scientists, who should know better. Sometimes he wondered, though. But though he was confident that the city was just a city, he knew that the city loved John.

Before he could continue his line of thought, he had to focus on the others streaming into the lab, and contend with the mess hall arguing with him about setting up a remote dining hall for them, and listen to Radek explain again and again what they thought they'd found until his voice went and Rodney took over, and ignoring Woolsey, arguing with Sam and Bill and the others from the SGC who'd come through the gate for the discovery, shouting at Chester, until nearly a week was lost to him.

Rodney woke up, face smashed onto the counter next to his main laptop, when he smelled coffee. He opened his eyes and saw two small hands wrapped around an enormous mug of hot ambrosia. "Bless you, my child," he muttered, unsticking his tongue, and took the coffee from Will. He inhaled luxuriously, sipped, then gulped. "You," he said to Will quite seriously, "were sent by the gods." Will grinned at him and stepped back, bumping into John.

"Hey," John said. Rodney looked around; the lab was nearly vacant. Radek and Linda had their heads together, Miko watching them, arms crossed, but everyone else was gone. "Sorry."

Then Rodney remembered. The fucking SGA had swept in like locusts and vacuumed up the pertinent portions of the database, the research and simulations and drafts of papers that Laurel and Hardy, Radek, Rodney, and all the others had been working on, and vanished to Earth. "Those fuckers," Rodney snarled, nearly spilling his coffee.

Will nodded. "Colonel Carter asked me to tell you that she was sorry, and that she'll do everything she can."

"That hussy," Rodney said, but he was too exhausted and too disappointed to say more. "Um, sorry. Didn't mean to swear in front of you."

Will looked irritated. "I'm not a complete baby," he said, sounding, Rodney thought, a bit like himself. "I'm _ten_."

Rodney started to laugh, tears springing to his eyes, and John took the coffee away from him. Radek came over looking grey with fatigue. "Those, those . . ." he tried to say, but for once both English and Czech deserted him. "Those _besotes beknijahk_."

Will's eyes got large in a way they didn't when Rodney had said _fuckers_. "Teyla says not to say that about anybody," he murmured, looking up at John.

"I am sorry, Will, but it is true." Radek shook his head and Rodney thought he was going to cry. "They are wolves, Rodney. How can they forbid us to work on this project?"

"They're afraid of us," Rodney said instantly, and Radek nodded. "As well they should be."

"I have already taken care of things," Radek said.

"Excellent work, Radek. The others?"

"Only the first ones."

John said, "As military commander of this base, it's important I not know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit," Rodney said. "Decide: us or them." He stared at John, whose lips parted. He glanced around them but of course only the first year people were there. Miko, Linda, Stefan, Andy, Leo, and Marcello drew near. They watched solemnly. John looked at Will, who nodded.

"Mister Woolsey told me what happened," Will said. "It wasn't fair. My dad used to say that life wasn't fair, but Mirielle said fairness wasn't the point. She said kindness was the point."

"Kindness," Rodney choked out.

The lab was very silent. Unlike the large labs that Rodney had worked in on Earth, the labs in Atlantis were quiet: the air supply worked efficiently without any noisy fans turning on and off. Their computers were small laptops or the Atlantian mainframe, which was utterly silent. The outer doors were shut and the walls soundproofed. One long wall of windows looked to the north, the direction Atlantis was slowly moving on this world, into the summer as the planet tilted.

Miko said, "Yes, you are the commander, but we are not military." She looked fierce. "Rodney is the Chief Science Office, and Radek manages this lab. We look to them first." She tilted her head slightly. "But you protect us. Will you protect us now?"

"Of course," John said instantly. He stopped, hesitated, rubbed Will's shoulders, and then looked into Rodney's eyes. "Of course." They remained silently waiting. John said in a different voice, "I remember Mirielle saying that kindness was more important than anything else. How can I remember that? She went back to France."

Rodney yawned, rolled his shoulders, and said, "I need a shower." He glared at the others. "You _all_ need showers. And rest. After all," he smiled grimly, "we have nothing important to do now. Let's take a break. Get rested up."

"Then we start again," Radek agreed.

When Rodney slipped off the stool and stood up, his back popped like walnuts cracking open. "Just a skeleton crew for tomorrow," he told Radek. "Not just in this lab; everywhere."

"I will take care of this with the other department heads," Radek said, and they all left.

John and Will walked with Rodney toward his quarters. "You all right with this?" Rodney quietly asked John.

He shrugged. "Just another episode in my glorious military career."

Will stopped. They turned to look at him curiously. "You have to do this," he said. "I heard what they said. The pretty woman, and the old guy, the general."

"What did you hear?" John asked. His voice was gentle.

"I can guess," Rodney said. Will came to him and took his hand. "They said that an energy source this powerful was too dangerous to leave in Pegasus. That Earth needed it. That America needed it."

Will nodded. He looked worried, too worried for a ten-year-old, Rodney thought, though he imagined that he'd been a worried boy, too. "I heard what Doctor Zelenka said about helping the people in this galaxy. He and Ronon talked a lot about that, about Sateda and Athos and other places. And besides," he said, "sometimes fairness _does_ matter. My dad was wrong about that."

He looked so young and so fierce. For a moment, Rodney could imagine him grown up; he'd argue like a lawyer and then surprise you with his sweetness. Different from John but not entirely. They might not be related, but they shared something vital.

Then Rodney yawned again, hugely, and felt nearly sick with fatigue. "To bed," John ordered him, and he and Will escorted Rodney the rest of the way to his quarters. "We'll talk later," John said. He lay his hand on Rodney's shoulder, near his neck, and Rodney nearly groaned from the comfort. But he was too tired to do anything except fall face down on his bed. His last thought was a wish for a hot bath.

Nearly thirty hours passed before Rodney felt human enough to stop by the mess hall. The scientists and military all looked as though they'd gone through a battle. Rodney wondered what they were talking about, and how it was falling out. Were people taking sides? He imagined so. The first ones versus the Terrans. Like some bizarre wrestling match. He piled scrambled eggs, crisp bacon, a mound of buttery toast, and fried tomatoes on his tray, then found a seat by an open window overlooking the water. He was halfway through his toast when he realized the Richard Woolsey had sat down across from him. "I brought you some fresh coffee," Woolsey said, and pushed a large cup toward him.

Rodney nodded vigorously, swallowed half the cup, and said thickly, "Thanks." He swallowed more. "Jesus, what a week."

"Yes, well. About that, Doctor McKay."

Rodney narrowed his eyes and studied Woolsey. He didn't dislike the man, but he was mildly irritated by his over-zealous attention to administrivia. A well-paid paper pusher, in Rodney's opinion. He'd been in Pegasus for over two years but still wore a suit and tie each day as if heading off to Bay Street each morning.

Woolsey appeared well aware of Rodney's feelings, but he pushed on. "What Doctors Laurent and Hrdy discovered in the database -- I won't pretend to understand it all. But it's been explained to me that it could lead to the recharging and possibly the creation of ZPMs. I do understand the significance of that."

Rodney nodded and took another mouthful of eggs, then toast. Woolsey said, "I'll be frank. General O'Neill warned me that you, among others, wouldn't be happy with the IOA's and SGC's decision to move the primary research into this field back to Earth." Rodney said nothing, though he was listening. "Personally, I don't understand why it was moved, nor why we couldn't assist with the research, but the IOA in particular insisted otherwise. I believe," he said dryly, "they somewhat fear us in Pegasus."

It nearly killed Rodney not to say _Maybe they should_ , but he refrained.

"At any rate, they have made their decision and since I am here only at their behest, it would be unwise for me to argue otherwise. That said," and here Woolsey learned almost across the table, looking straight into Rodney's eyes. Rodney stopped chewing. "That said, I have my work and you have yours. I pride myself on not being a micro-manager. Certainly I don't have the qualifications to micromanage a science division."

He sat back. Rodney waited, but Woolsey said nothing more. At last, Rodney said, "Okay." He sipped the cooling coffee. "Okay. And, um, thank you."

"You're welcome," Woolsey said, stood up, and walked away briskly. Rodney resisted the impulse to radio Radek. He did swing by John's office where, to his complete non-surprise, he found Evan Lorne. "Uh, he's working on Jumper One," Lorne said. "I didn't know you even knew where this office was."

"You'd be surprised what I know, whereas I am not in the least surprised by what you don't know," Rodney snapped.

"And you're welcome!" Lorne shouted after him, but there was no malice in his voice. He was a good guy, Rodney thought. Not here from the beginning, but still okay.

He found John and Will with their heads deep in the bowels of the jumper. "This crystal," he heard John said, "controls communication. You can swap it out with that crystal, but then you lose the ability to communicate with our radios. Rodney fixed that up; this is Ancient technology, and the radios are Earth technology, so it's not a perfect fit."

"But we made it work," Rodney said, sticking his head in the hatch.

"Rodney!" Will said, and he sounded genuinely happy. John smiled at him.

"Could we talk?" Rodney asked John.

John glanced at Will. "Tonight? Late?"

"Sure. Come by the lab."

"You're like my mom and dad," Rodney overheard Will complain to John. "Don't talk in front of the children."

"Hey," John said, sounding affronted. "Who's the mom?"

Will laughed.

Rodney thought about that on his way to the lab. Will had spoken of his parents without crying; that was new. The excitement about the energy research had moved concerns about Will's presence in Atlantis out of any priority; in fact, he hadn't heard anyone talk about it since Laurent, Hrdy, and Radek had put everything together. Would the SGC remember? Maybe they'd changed their minds.

Then he reached the lab and dove back into the work. He found an encrypted memo from Radek with an outline of a project plan waiting for him; that took his morning. He was vaguely aware that Will came by for his math and Czech lessons with Radek, who looked happy for the diversion, but Rodney sank back into his own project. When his stomach drew his attention back, he sat quietly for a minute, wondering what to have to eat, and where. He heard Radek say, "We have many secrets, Will. Atlantis herself is a secret to most people on Earth, and from most people in Pegasus."

"I wish I was secret," Will said. "What if they make me go to Earth?"

"Ah, Will," Radek said. Rodney peeked at them from the corner of his eye and saw Radek hug Will. Then he said something in Czech, to which Will replied in the same language. Rodney was impressed.

By the time John swung by the lab, it was after twenty-two hundred and Rodney was running out of steam. Miko still looked after him more than she should, bringing him sandwiches and fresh fruit, and even Radek had insisted on having a working dinner. There was always too much to do; now there was even more. John said, "Let's walk out to the pier."

For a minute, Rodney was going to object, but then he thought better. He could use the fresh air, and it was unlikely anyone would overhear them out there. When they were settled in their usual place, legs swinging above the water, Rodney asked, "How many hours do you think we've sat out here?" He pursed his lips, wondering if he could calculate that.

"It's a good place," John said. "Reminds me of a dock I used to fish from, back in Virginia. Even spent the night out there a few times."

"Jeannie and I used to camp out in the back yard," Rodney remembered. "We'd map the sky. It was fun. Plus we couldn't hear our parents fighting."

John laughed shortly. "Yeah. Camped out a few nights with Dave for the same reason. Till Mom got sick," he added, surprising Rodney. "Then I camped out so I." He stopped abruptly.

Over the years, they'd settled into a pattern; part of that was that they sat about eighteen inches apart. Tonight, for whatever reason, Rodney scooted over until they sat hip to hip. John looked at him quizzically, but didn't object or move away. Instead, he sighed. "How's your team taking the news?"

"Not well," Rodney said. "Especially me. I'm not going to obey, but you already know that. What you don't know is that Woolsey came to see me."

John turned to look at him. "Richard? About the research, and the IOA?"

"And the SGC," Rodney added. "I know you learned about the SGC just before we left Earth, but I've worked for them for a dozen years. I know what they're like, and so does Woolsey. He pretty much gave me his blessing to continue our work."

"You already told me that you were going to. Or was that about some other mysterious and illegal research?"

"No, that's it." Rodney sighed. "I just thought you'd like to know that Woolsey won't hang you out to dry if anything happens."

John shrugged. "I'd already made up my mind. We need the energy source here as much or more than Earth does. We have people who know Ancient technology better than anyone else anywhere."

"Yeah," Rodney said. "That worries me. Why the hell leave us out in the cold?"

"Sam said something," John said. "She's unhappy with the IOA. Actually, the general is, too."

"Figures," Rodney said. "Politics and the military do not mix well with each other. Neither mixes well with science. Science trumps all as far as I'm concerned." John didn't respond, just continued gazing thoughtfully out to sea. After a while, Rodney said, "Look, I know this is none of my business, except it sort of is, but what happened that day? When you, or Will, lay down that afternoon in seventy-seven? Do you remember? What do you remember?"

"I was a kid, Rodney. I don't remember a lot. I remember going to visit Aunt Felicity. Dad was pissed about it; he didn't like her much. She kept getting divorced. I think that's why she came back from France that time. I always liked her." He frowned. "I remember the drive there because Dave got carsick. He lay down in Felicity's room so I went out to play with Patch.

"But that's about all I remember. It's all confused. I remember starting school, but who knows what grade it was? I know they took me out of school for the rest of the year, right after I started. I had a private tutor," he said at Rodney's look. "When I went back to school, I was two grades up."

"Two grades," Rodney snorted. "I was in high school by then."

"Yes, I know, you're a genius now and you were a genius then."

"Well, you're pretty bright," Rodney conceded graciously. "But that's all?"

"How much do you remember about being ten?" John asked irritably.

After he reflected for a minute, Rodney said, "Um, well, not all that much. Mostly being confused. I never was any good at social stuff. I just wanted books and someone to ask questions now and then."

"What I want to know is what my parents were thinking? I mean if all this is true and I replaced Will, didn't they notice a difference? We're not exactly twins."

Rodney shrugged. He couldn't imagine what John's parents had been thinking, and they weren't around to ask. "I don't suppose your Aunt Felicity is handy?"

John shook his head. "She died in a car crash when I was sixteen."

"Any trusted family retainers?" John gave him a look. "Well, Ronon said your house was huge. I figure that means money, especially in Virginia."

"Not that much money."

"What about Dave? Would he know anything?"

"He's younger than I am; if I can't remember, how would he?"

"I don't know," Rodney snapped. "We're brainstorming here. Maybe your dad told him? Were they close? Or your mum?"

"My mom died a long time ago, Rodney," John said. "Dave was still little."

After a while, Rodney said, "I'm sorry. About your mum. That must have sucked."

"Yeah, I guess. We weren't all that close. But I missed her."

"Yeah. I missed my mum. Still do, sometimes. And we never got along."

"Funny how that works," John said. He shifted until he half faced Rodney. "What do you think happened? I know you have a theory. You always have a theory."

"It's a stupid theory."

"McKay."

"Okay, but it's a theory only because there's no evidence for anything else. I think the Ancients had something to do with it."

"What, they swapped me out for Will? Why?"

Rodney shrugged. "I've been thinking about that. I talked to Daniel Jackson not long after he returned. Descended. Whatever. He didn't remember much, still doesn't, but he did say that time had lost all significance. That it was all time. Oddly, for a social scientist, he made sense. Time as a stream flowing one way is an illusion; we perceive it that way due to our limited senses. But really, everything is happening all at once."

"I've heard the theory."

"Well, if it's true, and I think it is, then maybe the Ancients knew you needed to be here, and that you had to be in the Sheppard family to be positioned to get here."

"So where'm I from? They stole me from some other family?"

"Yeah, from the faeries; that would explain your ears."

John popped Rodney on the back of his head, but lightly. "Very funny, McKay, and have I mentioned your remarkable likeness to Bob Hope? Especially the nose?"

"Shut up. I don't know where they got you. I don't know where they put Will for all those years. But absent any other evidence, that's what I think happened. They swapped you out, as you say, and now here you are, right where you needed to be. And right where," Rodney added quickly, "right where we need you."

John started to say something but at Rodney's final words stopped. They sat in silence for several minutes.

Rodney reviewed his day: he had fomented an insurrection of sorts, and had disobeyed direct orders from the IOA and SGC about continuing to conduct research on what they were calling the alternate energy source. They had Will, and though he'd been in Atlantis for less than a month, Rodney was convinced that he needed to be here, too. And they had John.

Rodney looked at John, discovered that John was looking at him, and said, "Will needs to stay here."

"I know," John said mildly, still studying him.

"Think they'll fight us?"

"They? You mean the SGC?" John shrugged. "I don't think they want to remember he's here, so we have some time. We'll just keep quiet."

"Yes, yes, good idea. What they don't know won't hurt Will, and all that."

"I've been thinking." John stopped abruptly. Rodney made a _hurry up_ gesture that John frowned at, then scratched his forehead. "Okay, don't say anything to anyone else. But how bad an idea would it be for me to adopt Will?"

Rodney found himself genuinely surprised. But then, John often surprised him, unlike most people whom he found boringly predictable. He looked at the two moons' moire reflections on the water, wide white swathes like roads to Atlantis. At last, he asked, "Not passing judgment, not offering an opinion, but why? Never mind," he said abruptly. "You feel responsible."

"Wouldn't you?"

"Of course not," Rodney snapped. "Let me rephrase that: you are not responsible for whatever happened to Will."

"Okay, okay. But --" He stopped, took a breath. "It's just --"

Rodney took pity on him. "I know. But who knows what life he would have had? And we needed you. We still do. John." Rodney stopped, and rubbed his forehead.

"You're imagining that you stole his life. But that isn't true. If you take responsibility for him now, you're giving him a new life. In _Atlantis_."

John ducked his head, but Rodney could see he was trying not to smile. "Yeah," he finally said. "Pretty cool."

They sat quietly for a while longer, Rodney pondering John's impulse to take care of Will. Then he asked, "Could you stay in the military and adopt him?"

John sighed. "It's not against any military regulations to have kids, or adopt them. The question is whether they'd let me stay in Atlantis."

Rodney squawked, "You think they'd make you go back to Earth? Leave us, leave Atlantis? Leave _me_?" He thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. "That is bullshit, my friend, some fine, fine bullshit, but it _is_ the US military so hey, nothing new there."

"McKay," John said.

"Sorry, no, not sorry. It's fucked up." He suddenly turned square on to John and put his hands on his shoulders. "It is fucked up. You know it is. You know what -- you know how things would be. How everything should be."

John gazed at him steadily. He swallowed, and Rodney let himself watch John's throat, his muscles working, the tension in his body.

"You know what I mean," Rodney whispered. If John didn't respond in a minute, he was going to throw himself into the ocean, he thought. He wasn't a brave man; this was too daring for him; he'd been a fool, gotten riled up and blurted out something he could spend the rest of his life regretting.

"Yeah," John murmured. "I know. We should be."

Rodney took an enormous breath, relief flooding him. His face felt hot and he was nearly dizzy with adrenaline. "Okay, good," he said, and awkwardly embraced John. "God, I suck at this."

John laughed, really laughed, the big horsey laugh, and thumped Rodney on the back, so Rodney knew it would be all right.

"Well, since we're telling the truth, I'm not sure I can do it without you," John said when he'd recovered. "Well, without everybody's help, like they've been doing, but listen. I, uh. We. It seems to me that we. I mean, yes, you're right. Oh, shit."

"I'm always right," Rodney said, and kissed him.

John kissed him back and, for a first kiss, Rodney thought it was pretty great. No teeth clicking, no forehead banging, no nose mashing: just John's sensuous lips and oh, his tongue, and the feel of strength in his lithe body against Rodney's, wow.

Then it was Rodney's turn to laugh. John frowned at him, and tried to pull away, but Rodney hung on. "Will has two daddies!" Rodney gasped, and John smiled crookedly.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"John," Rodney said, and suddenly he was as serious as science. "Yes. To anything you ask: yes. Okay?"

"Yes," John replied, and his smile transformed into a grin, a big grin that Rodney didn't get to see often enough.

"So. Might be some, uh, political fall out if word gets out."

"You can keep a secret; that's all that matters."

Rodney wasn't entirely sure he could keep this secret; he wanted to smile every time he looked at John, and he was sure his face was flushed. He knew they'd tell the team, and Kanaan, and oh, they'd have to teach Will not to say anything, what a pain, and he'd tell Radek, though he suspected Radek would know before Rodney could say anything, and Woolsey wasn't a complete fool, not that they'd tell him, and then John kissed him again and all thoughts flew away on the night breeze.

When they finally walked back to John's quarters, Linda Simpson had put Will to bed and was sitting quietly reading. "Hey," she said softly when then entered.

"Thank you, Linda," John said, and bent over Will.

"He's fine," she reassured him. "Such a good kid."

"Even if he does prefer French to maths," Rodney groused, but he wasn't serious. Much. When Linda had left and John was satisfied that Will was sound asleep, he stood and studied Rodney, who fidgeted a bit under his gaze. When Rodney became too uncomfortable, he grasped John's wrist and drew him near; John came willingly, smiling shyly at Rodney. It was different indoors, Rodney thought; different in the dim light of John's room, with Will sleeping quietly and John's bed sitting there.

John tilted his head and gently kissed Rodney, resting one hand against his face. The gesture was so tender than Rodney's heart hurt, and he slid his hands around John's waist. This new thing, this amazing new thing, this changed so much in Rodney's life. He was so moved by how John had opened his arms to Rodney, both figuratively and literally. He didn't want to let go, now that John had let him in, and he hugged John even tighter, suddenly breathless.

Aroused, too; his body was thrumming and John was so warm and alive. "I want," Rodney gasped. John put his other hand on Rodney's face and they rested their foreheads together in an Athosian greeting and panted.

"Yeah, me, too," John said hoarsely. "But."

"I know," Rodney said. "I know. You have got to get a bigger room."

"I can't leave him."

"No, I know, but tomorrow, you aren't going to change your mind, are you? Tomorrow we could, in the afternoon, my quarters, if you want --"

"I want," John said, almost grimly.

"Good, good. Me, too." They stared at each other. "Wow," Rodney said.

"Yeah."

"John?" Will's voice startled Rodney. "Rodney?"

"Hey, buddy," John said, and squeezing Rodney's hand, knelt at Will's bedside. "Bad dream?"

"No. I'm thirsty."

"I'll get you some water," Rodney said. As he did, he heard John's and Will's voices, and smiled. He wanted to get used to this. He carried a cup of water to Will, who took it with both hands and gulped a bit while John stroked his hair.

"Thank you," he said, handing the cup up to Rodney.

"No problem," Rodney said.

"Can you go back to sleep?" John asked. "You want me to read to you?"

"No." He lay down, eyes half closed. "You should go to bed, though."

"Yeah," John laughed. "Yeah, I should."

He stood up and looked at Rodney. "You _should_ go to bed," Rodney told him. John's hand hovered near his, so Rodney grabbed it. "Don't tell me I'm going to be the one good at this," he said.

They walked to the doors, and then Rodney kissed John, who caught his face in both hands again, gently angling it to deepen their kiss. "So what are we doing?" John whispered to him.

"Oh, clandestine relationship, illicit research, energy source exceeding our wildest dreams -- just the usual."

"The usual."

Rodney kissed John one last time for the night and waved open the doors. He pointed a finger at John. "Tomorrow," he said, stepping into the corridor. "No backing out of the, the arrangement."

"Is that what we're calling it," John said. Rodney gazed appreciatively at him, standing hipshot in the open doorway.

"In public, yeah." Rodney didn't know how he was going to walk away from John, so he waited until John shook his head and turned, the doors sliding shut behind him. Only then was Rodney able to move again.

Keeping secrets, Rodney mused while laying naked in bed late the following afternoon, was tedious, but he'd managed to keep the stargate secret for many years, and many other secrets as well. But this secret, he thought, studying John's profile next to him, this secret was so much more valuable. John rolled his head enough to smile at him, sleepy and sated. "Hey," John said, his voice huskier than usual.

"Hey." Impulsively, he kissed John's temple, still embarrassed that he found doing so such a thrill. _Clandestine relationship_ , he'd said the night before. He'd never kept such a behemoth secret before, nor one so important to him.

"I hate to say it," John started.

"Then don't."

"Rodney."

"I know, I know: places to go, things to do, world to conquer."

"Something like that." John rolled on top of Rodney, pinning him down: hands around Rodney's wrists, legs around Rodney's thighs, and then they were kissing, John insistent and fierce.

They parted reluctantly, but John was right. He had a meeting with Woolsey, and Rodney needed to get back to the labs. They dressed in silence, but before they left Rodney's quarters, he said, "I've been wondering. About the time before you went to the Sheppards."

"Actually, I meant to tell you. I wrote Dave."

"And?"

"And nothing. I wrote him, but I haven't heard back. Who knows if I will. We're not exactly close."

Rodney wanted to insist, but he only made a face. If Dave didn't respond, he might ask Jeannie to look into it. She was the only one he trusted enough to ask.

But John did hear back, Rodney discovered a few weeks later. Will was still with them in Atlantis, still living with John, and John was still with Rodney. That fact kept surprising Rodney, and surprising a smile from him, but most people seemed to assume that had to do with Will.

"He's good for you," Radek told Rodney more than once, and though Rodney was sure that Radek meant Will, he also knew that it was John who was so good for him.

"I guess," he'd say reluctantly; he couldn't lose his reputation as a curmudgeon.

One night, after a long chess game, when Will was sleeping soundly, John opened his laptop and showed Rodney an email from his brother Dave. Rodney looked up at John for permission to read it. John said, "I'll just, I'll take a quick shower," and disappeared. Rodney took that as his cue, and sat back to read.

 _Dear John,_ Dave started. Rodney snorted. Really unfortunate salutation. _I was surprised to hear from you, but I'm glad you wrote. I actually do think about you and wonder what you're doing, where you are, how you are. You sound good._

_I'm not surprised that you asked about The Disappearance, though. That's how I remember it: The Disappearance. I was too little to understand much at the time, but I remember Mom upset and Dad angry. Well, nothing new about that._

_After Mom died and you left, Dad talked to me, and as he got older, he talked more. He regretted a lot; I told you that when you were here, but I didn't get a feeling you believed me. It's true, though. Near the end, he said many times that he didn't do right by you. That's exactly what he said: didn't do right by you._

_Once I asked him what he meant, but he wouldn't explain. Later, though, when he wasn't in so much pain, he told me about The Disappearance. It was the first time anyone had ever talked to me about it. I only overheard stuff before, and didn't understand most of what was said._

_I don't have any real answers for you. He said that you were running around in the woods and disappeared. They didn't even worry for hours because you often did that. You were an energetic kid._

_But this time you didn't come back, and when they found Patch and your jacket, they called the police. Dad wasn't the big shot back then that he was later, but they still took him seriously. All kinds of wild theories, he said._

_He said that Mom nearly went crazy. Aunt Felicity came to live with us for a while, and she nearly drove Dad crazy. I think I can remember that, Aunt Felicity in the house with us, but maybe I just remember Dad complaining about her._

_He told me that you were gone for three months and that they'd pretty much given up on you. That's why they kept me home so much and wouldn't let me go to camp with the other boys the next summer, even though you were back by then._

_I didn't think to ask him much about how they found you so I can't really help with that. After I got your email, though, I did some research. Well, I used Google a lot, and went through Dad's records. I found a newspaper article from some tiny town outside of Hot Springs, not that Hot Springs is a thriving metropolis. The article said that "an itinerant worker and his common-law wife" found you. Just sleeping by the side of the trail, it said. I tried to find out more, but the article didn't even give the man's name. I couldn't find anything else, which is weird. I thought there would have been a trial or hearing to give custody of you back to Dad, or maybe try the couple for kidnapping or something. But if anything happened like that, I couldn't find the records._

_Anyway, that's all I could find out. I'm sorry it isn't more. Can I ask why you're interested, after all these years? Maybe I shouldn't. I know you don't like to share._

_Thanks for asking about the kids. They're wonderful girls. They take after their mother's side of the family, and you'll know what I mean when I say that's a good thing._

_Take care of yourself, John. I know we're not close, but you're still my brother, and I love you._

_Dave_

Rodney sat back, closing the laptop. Found sleeping by the side of the trail. No trial, no hearing, nothing. Just given to the Sheppards. He wondered if that's what money did, and then felt foolish. Of course it did. They'd lost a son, a boy was found, the boy must therefore be the son, and a family was reunited.

When John came out of the bathroom, his face was pink from the heat of the shower, his hair crazier than usual. Rodney thought: I have never felt this way before. He held out his hand and John came to him, sitting next to him on the bed, and then they lay back, staring into each other's eyes.

"I really don't give a fuck who you were, or where you came from," Rodney said at last. "Just -- just don't go."

John kissed him, long and deep. Rodney felt drunk with the pleasure of John in his arms. "I'll never leave you," John whispered to him between kisses. "Never."

Rodney knew that John never lied to him. "Okay," he said, turning his face into John's neck, still moist and warm from the shower. "Then that's okay."

Rodney had thought at first that it all began when John found Will in his bathroom. Later, he decided that it had begun much earlier. Maybe it had begun when John had been found sleeping by the side of a rural Virginia trail. That, like Will, it had existed all along, unseen and unknown but still present. That they'd been heading this direction for a long time, as sure as Atlantis was heading north in the nearly invisible, slow-moving current that the lost city sailed in.

 _Who knows why the Ancients do stuff,_ Rodney will tell Will when he is old enough to ask. _Why doesn't really matter. What matters is what we do with the information._

And much later, when Will was grown and leading a gate-team of sorts, not that they called them gate-teams then, when he would stand with his teammates before the glowing gate, John and Rodney there to see him off, Rodney would remember the little boy, lost for so many years, separated from home and family, and how he had finally come home, to his real home.

Rodney didn't like or trust the Ancients, but he was grateful to them. He would look at John standing next to him, and see all the Johns through all the years all at once. Wherever this John had come from, Rodney had long ago decided, he had come home, too. Home to Rodney, to his teammates, to his son, and to Atlantis.

Whenever it had started, wherever it had begun: it didn't matter. What mattered, as he had told Will, was what they did with the knowledge.

When Will's team had stepped through the gate and its rippling glow had flickered out, John leaned against Rodney and lay his hand over Rodney's. "I made him promise to bring back some _emamba_ for you," he said.

Rodney smiled. "Got anything planned for this morning?"

"Nothing I couldn't be persuaded to postpone."

"Then I have an idea." Rodney waggled his eyebrows at John.

"Always so suave," he said, but tugged Rodney away from the gateroom and toward the transporter that would take them back to their quarters.

* * *

Notes: Thanks to [Temaris](http://temaris.livejournal.com) for her excellent suggestions; to [General Jinjur](http://general_jinjur.livejournal.com) for more ideas and encouragement; and to [Hyvarken](http://hyvarken.insanejournal.com) for catching some problems.

I heard The Ghost of Bobby Dunbar on "This American Life" a while ago and instantly thought of John Sheppard. It's a fascinating story; you can listen to it [here](http://www.thislife.org/Radio_Episode.aspx?sched=1282).


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